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IMPRESSIONS OF THE ART 

AT THE 
PANAMA-PACIFIC EXPOSITION 



OTHER WORKS 

BY 

CHRISTIAN BRIXTON, M.A.. Litt. D. 

Modern Artists. The Baker ami Taylor Coinpanv. New York, 1!I(IS 

Catalogue of Paintings by Ignacio Zi'loaga. 

The Hispanic Society of Amerifa, New ^'ork, 190!l 

AuSSTELLUNG AmERIKANISCHER KuNST. 

Konigliche Akademie tier Kiinste zu Berlin, IIUO 

Die Entwicklung der Amerikanischen Malerei. 

F. Bruekmann. Miinehen-Berlin. litlc 

Masterpieces of American Painting. 

The Berlin Photographic Company, New York ami Berlin, I'JIO 

Catalogue of Sculpture by Prince Paul Troubetzkoy. 

The American Numismatic Society, New York, 1911 

Walter Greaves, Pupil of Whistler. 

Cottier and Company, New York, 191i 

The Scandinavian Exhibition. 

The American-Scandinavian Society, New York, 1912 

Modern Swedish Art in Colour. 

.\lbert Bonnier, Stockholm and New York, 19IS 

La Peinture AxMericaine. 

Histoire Generale de la Peinture. L'.\rt et le.s .\rtistes. Paris. l!>l:i 
CoNSTANTIN MeUNIER. Published by the author, New York. 19U 

Catalogue of the Swedish Exhibition. New York, 1916 

{In Preparation) 
Francisco de Goya and His Paintings in A.merk a. 

Frederic Fairchild Sherman, New York 

£douard Manet and His Paintings in America. 

Frederic Fairchild Sherman. New York 




Copijriijfi/. The Detroit PuhlUhinii Co. 

SKATERS 

BY GARI MELCHERS 



Courlesy of the rciinsj-lvaiiia Ai-adi'iiiy <»f iIk' Fim Ar 
Colour Plates, Courtesy nf The I'eutury Co. 



IMPRESSIONS 

OF THE ART AT THE 
PANAMA PACIFIC EXPOSITION 

BY 

CHRISTIAN BRINTON 

(member or THE IXTERXATIOXAl, JUEy) 



With a Chapter on the San Diego Exposition 
and an Introductory Essay on 

THE MODERN SPIRIT IN 
CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 



NEW YORK 

JOHN LANE COMPANY 

j\I C J\I X A I 



i'^x 






Copyright, 1916, by 
JOHN LANE COMPANY 



I'liiitt'd by Eaton & (ii;TTi.\(;i;ii. \c\v VniU. U.S.A. 

Engraving by \V.\i.ker Engravi.nc to.. New York, U.S.A. 

Colour Work by Ditt.max Coi.oub Prixtixg Co.. Xew York, U.S.A. 

Binding by Gkady BooKniNDTNii Co.. New York. U.S..A. 

Paper by S. T). fi.\RRE\ &Jo.. Boston. U.S.A. 







CONTENTS 



PAGE 



List of Illustrations 7 

The Modern Spirit in Contemporary Painting 13 

The Panama-California Exposition 31 

The Panama-Pacific Exposition 43 

Sculpture — Nati\e and Foreign 67 

American Painting 87 

Foreign Painting — Part One 137 

Foreign Painting — Part Two 173 

Bibliography 195 

Index of Artists 201 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

(PLATES IN COLOUR) 

Skaters. By Gari Melchers Frontispiece 

Am. The Windmill. By Frank Brangwyu facing page 52 

Earth I. Dancing the Grapes. By Frank Brangwyn .... " " " 

Earth II. The Fruit Pickers. By Frank Brangwyn .... " " " 

AVater. The Fountain. By Frank Brangwyn " " " 



(PLATES IN BLACK AND WHITE) 

page 

Lady in Pink. By Nikolai Fechin 12 

The Panama-California Exposition 

Tower and Dome of California Building 30 

View from across the Canon de Cabrillo 32 

Entrance Facade, California Building 33 

Looking across the Esplanade 35 

A Mission P.\tio, Southern Counties Building 37 

Commerce and Industries Building » 39 

Entrance to the Varied Industries Building 40 

The Panama-Pacific Exposition 

Sculpture at Entrance of the Festival Hall 42 

Palace of Horticulture 45 

Colonnade and Palace of Fine Arts 47 

Discovery — Mural Painting. By W. De Leftwich Dodge 48 

Survival of the Fittest — Sculpture. By Robert I. Aitken 49 

The Harvest — Sculpture. By Paul Manship 50 

Colonnade Fronting Palace of Fine Arts (Night Effect) 55 

Part of the Court of the Four Seasons (Night Effect) 57 

Rotunda, Lagoon, and Palace of Fine Arts (Night Effect) 59 

The Tower of Jewels (Night Effect) • . 61 

East Facade, Horticulture Building (Night Effect) 63 

Court of the Four Seasons (Night Effect) 63 

[7] 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS— Continued 

Sculpture — Natii'e and Foreign 

PAGE 

The End of the Trail. By Jiuues Earle Fraser 66 

Young Girl with Water Jar. By Joseph Bernard 69 

The Outcast. By Attilio Pictirilli 71 

Crows and their Young. By Dagfin Weren.skiold 73 

Count Tolstoy. By Paul Trouhetzkoy 75 

Aquatic Nymphs. By Leo Lentelli 77 

Grandmother's Idol. By Ermenegildo Liipjii 7!) 

The Foot Bath. By Rene Quillivic 81 

Sphinx. By Davifl Edstrom 83 

American Painting 

Torso. By Arthur B. Carles 86 

Mme. Gautreau. By John S. Sargent 89 

The Coming Stokm. By Win.slow Homer 91 

Note Blanche : Study o?' Jo. By James McNeill Wiiistler 93 

Summer. By Frederic (\ Frie.seke 95 

In the Sun. By Theodore Robinson 96 

Poppies. By Robert W. Vonnoh 97 

Whistling Boy. By Frank Duveneck 99 

Spanish Courtyard. By John S. Sargent 101 

Mother and Child. By Gari Melchers 103 

Paresse. By Lawton S. Parker 105 

Portrait. By Cecilia Beaux 107 

The Ice Storm. By Allen Tucker 109 

Youth. By Frederic C. Frieseke Ill 

St. Ives Fishing Boats. By Hayley Lever 113 

Mother AND Child. By John H. Twachtman 115 

Gates at San Pedro Miguel. By Jonas Lie 117 

October Morning. By Ben Foster 11!) 

The End of the Street. By Gifford Beal l'-2l 

The Emerald Robe. By Robert H. Nisbet b2:i 

Youth. By Josephine Paddock 125 

Polo Crowd. By George W. Bellows I07 

My Family. By Edmund C. Tarbell 12!) 

A Mother and her Sons. By Rockwell Kent i:!l 

Tangier. By Alexander Robinson 13;j 

Foreign Painting — Part One 

The Green Shawl. By Camillo Innocent! l.'Ui 

Binnenkant: Winter ix Amsterdam. By Willem Witsen 139 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS— Continued 

PAGE 

Winter in the Forest. By Anshelm Schultzberg 141 

The Cripple. By Gabriel Strandberg 143 

LoNGCHAMPs. By Batthyanyi Gyula 145 

Summer Night: Aasgaardstrand. By Edvard Munch 147 

Countess Batthyanyi Lajos. By Vaszary Janos 149 

Hungarian Home Altar. By Javor Pal 151 

Autumnal Day. By Arnold Marc Gorter 153 

Among the Birches. By Carl Larsson 155 

A Frosty Afternoon. By Anshelm Schultzberg 157 

The Shore. By Leo Putz 159 

Rippling Water. By Gustav A. Fjaestad 161 

Interior. By Rippl-Ronai Jozsef 163 

Summer Night. By Franz von Stuck 165 

In the Rhine Meadows. By Heinrich von Ziigel 167 

Winter Road. By Thorolf Holmboe 169 

Foreign Painting — Part Two 

The Procession. By Ettore Tito 172 

The Painters. By Felix Vallotton 175 

Harbour of Rotterdam. By Albert Marquet 177 

Seated Woman. By Charles Cottet 179 

The Young Landlady. By Jorge Bermtidez 181 

The Bohemian. By Antonio Mancini 183 

Bathers. Bj"^ Maurice Denis 185 

Moulin de la Galette. By Vincent Van Gogh 187 

The Communicants. By Lucien Simon . 189 

The Nightingale's Veranda. By Jose Malhoa 191 

Interior of Cafe. By Manuel Rose 193 



[9] 



I 



THE MODERN SPIRIT IN 
CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 



I 




Internatiunal Srrfion, Pnnamti- Pacific Exposition, .Sau Franc. 



Coun.'sy nf William S. Stininu'l. Es(|. 



LADY IN PINK 

BY NIKOLAI FECHIN 



[12] 



THE MODERN SPIRIT IN 
CONTEMPORARY PAINTING* 



A CONSIDER AT ION of the more recent phases of current art 
presents an appeal not alone stimulating but possibly also dis- 
concerting. And yet the matter is not so complicated as it would 
appear at first glance. Those same principles that govern every 
field of activity are operative in the province of aesthetic endeavour. You 
will grasp the issue more clearly if you bear in mind the all-important 
fact that art is a social expression, that the perennial quest of beauty is not 
an esoteric pastime or an ingenious puzzle. It is one of the essential char- 
acteristics of human effort and aspiration. There never was a time when 
man did not seek to visualize his impressions of the outward universe or 
give form and semblance to those ideas and emotions that surge so per- 
sistently within. 

Art was at first the handmaiden of life. Each act in the initial stages of 
aesthetic progress was typically unconscious. In due course, however, the 
creation of beauty became an end in itself, and artistic production thus 
entered upon its second and more conscious phase. Throughout the serenity 
of the classic age, the inspiring exuberance of the Renaissance, and on down 
to modern times every artistic gesture possessed a special significance and 
responded to some specific need. If during the past century art has changed 
in aspect, it is largely because society itself has changed. We no longer, as 
did lordly patron, ecclesiastical or royal, command the artist to work for us. He 
works as a rule for himself alone, and one need scarcely scruple to term this the 
third or self-conscious phase of artistic development. 

For various reasons painting is that particular form of aesthetic activity 
which is most sensitive and responsive to external influences. With but 
few exceptions the canvases to which we are accustomed have not been 
produced with any aim or end in view other than to appease the individual 



* Copyright, I0J6, by Chr'isiian Brniton. 

[13] 



IMPRESSIONS 



craving for graphic or coloristic expression. Riglitly or wrongly the 
painting we encounter upon exhibition wall or in the studio has won its 
release from all explicit social obligation. It stands before us free and 
autonomous, and must be judged upon its own proper merits. That it has 
gained not a little by this change of status is evident. That in certain of its 
more acute manifestations it is paying the penalty of isolation is equally 
apparent. 

^Modern painting as such begins with the dawn of modern societjs with 
the breakdown of the aristocratic order, the rise of democracy, and the rapid 
ascendancy of the scientific spirit. Timid and perturbed by the transforma- 
tions which the Napoleonic regime wrought in his beloved Paris, Fragonard 
stands as the last of the old masters. He attempted, with pathetic futility, 
to adjust himself to altered conditions, but the task proved beyond his en- 
feebled powers. He did not possess the nervous vitality, the splendid, spas- 
modic virility of his Spanish contemporary Goya. It was David, ruthless 
and dictatorial, who dominated the earh' decades of the last century. After 
the rigid classicism of David came the impeccable academic propriety of 
Ingres and the eloquent romanticism exemplified by Eugene Delacroix. They 
each epitomized the temper and tendencies of their time. Painting was 
no longer content to minister modesth'^ unto life; it had learned to echo 
in theme and treatment the social, political, and intellectual complexion of 
the age. 

In the special sense in which it here concerns us, contemporary art did 
not begin with classicist, romanticist, or even with the sturdy terrestrialism 
of Gustave Courbet. It started with that prince of moderns the mundane, 
militant, Edouard ^Nlanet. Manet won two imperishable triumphs. He 
demolished the sterile prestige of academic tradition, and he taught us 
the possibilities of painting as a thing existing of, and for. itself alone — 
as something independent of history, allegory, or anecdote. Witli him the 
artist cast aside Roman toga and peasant smock. He was neither imperial 
like David nor a humble proletarian such as Millet. He stepped Ijefore 
us clad as anyone in frock coat and silk hat. Still, it was not reserved for 
the eager, ardent Manet to complete the emancipation of j)ainting from the 
trammels of the past. He remained to the end a transitional figure. While 
he freed art from the tyranny of subject, he was not a true child of sunlight 
and atmosphere. All that Paris could offer he avidly absorbed, yet there 



[14] 



CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 

was something more to be gleaned by watching haystack change subtly with 
the hour of day, in studying the cloud-flecked bosom of pool, or the fresh 
bloom of springtime garden. Although the impressionistic impetus emanated 
from Manet, it was the patient, salutary Monet who carried the doctrine to 
its logical conclusion. And close upon the heels of Manet and Monet pressed 
numerous converts who flooded studio and gallery with a radiance ever 
near at hand though until then so strangely neglected. 

The story of contemporary painting in its first, or analytical stage, 
resolves itself into the struggle for light, and yet more light. For centuries 
figure and landscape had been bathed in brown sauce and blackened by 
bitumen. With but few exceptions all artists beheld nature through the 
subdued tonality of the old masters. Though Correggio saw the tender 
evanescence of atmosphere, and Velazquez felt the magic of its respiration, 
they stand almost alone amid a sombre assembly. With the moderns the 
conquest of light and air was by no means confined to the great, palpitating- 
out-of-doors, to smiling field or iridescent stretch of water. It was also 
carried on within. Degas watched it filter through the windows of the 
foyer de la danse or flare into the faces of his ballet girls. Besnard caught 
its mellow flicker from lamp or fireside. Renoir adapted something of the 
chromatic opulence of Rubens to the requirements of the new creed, and 
even Gaston La Touche, in his St. Cloud villa, bathed his delicate, 
eighteenth-century evocations in this same fluid ambience. 

Paris of course proved the spot from whence radiated this new gospel, 
just as, a generation later, it was from Paris that was launched the propaganda 
of the Expressionists, who to-day represent the inevitable reaction against 
Impressionism. Simultaneously there sprang up over the face of Europe, 
and also America, countless accjuisitive apostles of light who soon changed the 
complexion of modern painting from black and brown to blonde, mauve, and 
violet. The movement seemed spontaneous. In Spain it was SoroUa and 
Rusinol who popularized the prismatic palette among the vineyards of Val- 
encia, along the plage of Cabanal, or in the gardens of Andalucia. Far up 
among the peaks of the Engadine, Giovanni Segantini, the solitary, heroic- 
souled Italian-Swiss painter perished in endeavouring to apply the principles 
of Divisionism, as he termed it, to simple and austere mountain scene. Dark- 
ness was everywhere dissipated. Under the direct inspiration of Degas, 
Max Liebermann undertook the task of injecting purity of tone and swift- 

[15] 



IMPRESSIONS 



ness of touch into the Gothic obscurity and Unear severity of Teutonic paint- 
ing. Claus and Van Rysselberghe in Belgium, Thaulow in Norway, Kroyer 
in Denmark, and a dozen or more talented Swedes witness the widening 
acceptance of the Impressionist programme. Apart from George Clausen, 
Bertram Priestman, Wilson Steer, and a scant handful of the younger men, it 
cannot be claimed that Impressionism has made commensurate headway in 
England. The Scotchmen, to the country, have proved more sensitive 
and open-minded, and, in modified form, the feeling for atmospheric clarity 
has become one of the characteristic features of the Glasgow School. 

In America conditions were favourable owing to the efforts of certain 
of our abler men who lived and studied in Paris during the early 'eighties of the 
last century. The pioneers in this particular field were Theodore Robinson 
and Alexander Harrison. Still, it must not be assumed that American Im- 
pressionism and French Impressionism are identical. The American painter 
accepted the spirit, not the letter of the new doctrine. He adapted the divi- 
sion of tones to local taste and conditions and ultimately evolved a species 
of compromise technique. Only one American artist, Hassam, went as far 
as Monet, yet he has managed to individualize his brilliant, vibrant colour 
appositions. In addition to Hassam the main exponents of the new movement 
were AYeir, who has passed with distinction through divers transitions, Met- 
calf, the sweet-toned lyrist of the group, Simmons, Dodge, and Reid who 
applied the method to decorative figure composition, and the late John H. 
Twachtman whose work soon became an essentially personal manifestation. 
Associated with the foregoing men in the general aim of giving freshness 
and verity to native vision are Melchers and Hitchcock, who painted chiefly 
in Holland, Miss Cassatt, who has long been identified with Paris, and the 
Boston artists, Tarbell and Benson. That certain of them evince more 
craftsmanship than conviction is not a matter to be deplored, for they have 
done much toward revealing the possibilities of the modern palette and 
proving the necessity for a more painterlike and less provincial conception 
of their profession. 

It has been necessary to recall the general dift'usion and wide-spread vogue 
of Impressionism in order to indicate the significance of an achievement which, 
in the history of painting, ranks only second in importance to the discovery 
of perspective. The realization that there is no such thing as absolute colour, 
ihat what we see is not the actual object, but that object conditioned by 



[16] 



CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 

varying effects of light and shade, and that, in certain circumstances, Une 
and form themselves disintegrate, are facts which brought about a veritable 
revolution in pictorial representation. Artists became eager analysts of 
nature and natural phenomena. The hitherto undisputed predominance of 
subject-interest almost disappeared, and each man sought to steep himself 
in that all-pervading luminosity which, for the time being, seemed the sole 
source of beauty and inspiration. Certain phases of artistic effort did not, of 
course, so readily respond to the new order of things, though even portraiture 
and mural decoration ultimately reflected the spirit of the hour. 

While there resulted from this scrupulous study of the optics of art much 
that was fresh and invigorating, the personal equation was nevertheless 
lacking, or was reduced to a minimum. You cannot open the window to 
nature and close it upon the human soul, and even before the conclusive 
triumph of Impressionism there were signs of a reaction. Analysis was 
bound to give place to synthesis, and hence Impressionism, which ignores the 
individual, was supplemented by Expressionism, which exalts the individual. 
Various names have been given the multiple forms which these ultra- 
modern tendencies have assumed. We hear, with increasing perturbation, 
of Post-Impressionism, Cubism, Futurism, Orphism, Synchromism, and a 
bewildering succession of isms all more or less closely associated in aim and 
idea. The most comprehensive and characteristic appellation is that of 
Expressionism, which, as is readily perceived, stands in direct antithesis 
to Impressionism. There are manifest differences between each of these 
isms. The inventors and promoters of one, repudiate all affiliation with the 
exponents of another, yet their general significance, both popular and philo- 
sophic, remains substantially the same. 

In order properly to appreciate the situation it is necessary to realize that 
there are, to begin with, no revolutions in art. The development of artistic 
effort proceeds along definite lines. The various movements overlap one 
another, and in each will be found that vital potency which proves the forma- 
tive impulse of the next. The aesthetic unity of man is as indisputable as is his 
ethnic unity, and, given similar conditions, he will not fail to produce similar, 
if not identical results. The panorama of pictorial or plastic accomplishment 
the world over, like the phenomena of crystallography, conchology, or those 
basic verities that lie at the root of all harmonic proportion reveal but scant 
variation from fixed rule. Nature at the outset managed to get such mat- 

[17] 



IMPRESSIONS 



ters systematized, and since then has been satisfied to let things pursue their 
appointed course. While it is permissible for juvenile or uncritical enthusi- 
siasts flamboyantly to announce revolutions, at bottom it is the more deliber- 
ate process of evolution to which they are paying tribute. 

Why, then, the current superexcitation in art circles? It is merely due to a 
lack of close, first-hand acquaintance with the problem at issue. Most of 
us see only eft'ects, not the causes that lead up to these effects. The primitive 
craftsmen, owing partially to their rudimentary command of technique, 
pictured things synthetically, and it is something of this same precious syn- 
thesis of vision and rendering which certain painters and sculptors of to-day 
have set about to recapture for themselves. The trend of art during the 
past few centuries has been away from subjective, and frankly in the direc- 
tion of objective, representation. It is the thing itself we have gradually 
been forced to accept, not that which it may suggest to sight and sense. 
We have little by little stooped to a sort of debased illusionism and in order 
to extricate ourselves from the stupidity and stagnation of such a predica- 
ment, we have gone back to the fountain-heads of native art as they may 
be found in Hindu-China or Yucatan, on the plains of Mongolia, in the basin 
of the Nile, or among the shimmering islands of the Polynesian archipelago. 
Less revolutionary than reactionary, the modernists have reverted to an 
earlier type of art, and in doing so it was inevitably to the East that they 
were forced to turn. The present movement of which we hear so much, 
possibly too much, represents more than anything the subtle ascendancy of 
Orient over Occident. The first premonition of this impending triumph 
was apparent as far back as the early 'sixties of the past century, when a 
certain Mme. Desoye opened in Paris a modest shop where she sold Japanese 
prints, pottery, screens, and the like, and succeeded in attracting the notice 
of Bracquemond, Louis Gonse, the de Goncourts, and other discerning spirits. 
Scattered quite by chance, the seed bore fruit in various quarters. 
Though Whistler paid his tribute in parasitic fashion, it was Manet who, in- 
spired by the Spaniards and freed from scholastic influences by the redoubt- 
able Courbet, first seized ujion the essentials of the new art — the simplicity of 
outline, the juxtaposition of pure colour tones, and the substitution for elabor- 
ate modelling of flat surfaces without the use of shadow. The virtual precursor 
of the Impressionists, on the one hand. Manet may also be ranked as the 
parent Expressionist, for it was from him that Cezanne received hints of that 



[18 



CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 

structural and chromatic unity which, as we shall see, became the keynote 
of his method and the corner-stone of subsequent achievement. Yet it 
must never be forgotten that it was Courbet who at the outset courageously 
spurned a stilted and effete classicism and rudely dispelled the embers of a 
burned-out romanticism. It was upon his expansive peasant shoulders that 
Manet, the townsman, climbed to hitherto unattained heights. And it is to 
Courbet and to nature, which he worshipped with such passionate energy, 
that, once they have ventured far enough into space, our tense and pallid 
theorists must inevitably return. 

The new art preaches before all else the supremacy of the personal 
factor. Social as well as aesthetic in aspect, it bases itself upon an unfettered, 
uncompromising individualism. We had a foretaste of this in the capricious 
attitude of Whistler toward the world of actuality about him which he was 
unwilling, or unable, to fix upon canvas. It was he who first inveighed against 
the picture that simply tells a story or states a fact. With his super-exclusive- 
ness we are already well along the pathway leading toward complete inde- 
pendence of objective representation. The principle upon which the new 
movement is founded is, as we have indicated, one of the oldest of graphic 
expedients. It is the principle of simplification, of eliminating the superfluous 
and the non-essential. Consciously or unconsciously, it was practised over 
fifty thousand years ago by the caveman in his rock pictures of bison and 
reindeer. It lies at the root of all primitive artistic effort, and has been resur- 
rected by a group of men who, whatever their individual differences and 
disagreements, unite in maintaining that contemporary painting and sculp- 
ture are but slavish and cumbersome forms of nature-imitation. They hold 
that the spirit has insufficient scope in a world so studiously, so palpably real. 
They take refuge in a realm where the abstract reigns supreme. One after 
another they have cast aside the precepts of the schools, the paraphernalia of 
the pedants, and gone, so they claim, straight to the source of things. 

Glance at the founders of the cult and you will doubtless better com- 
prehend the situation. First you encounter Paul Cezanne, ever sane and 
searching, extracting from the visible world its voluminal integrity of form 
and colour. You next behold Gauguin, the so-called barbarian, synthetiz- 
ing life and scene in far-off Tahiti with a smouldering splendour of tone and 
stateliness of poise that hark back through Degas, Ingres, and Prudhon to 
the symmetry and spaciousness of classic times. And finally you are con- 

[19] 



IMPRESSIONS 



fronted in Van Gogh with a fusion of Gothic fervour and sheer dynamic 
fury that gives his tortured landscapes or distraught peasant physiognomies 
something of the eternal throb of all creative energy. Each, after his own 
fashion, was individual and anti-academic. Each, after his own fashion, 
strove to free eye and mind from the actual and the objective. Each 
sought not the substance but the sign, and that is why together they con- 
stitute the intrepid trinity of the new movement. Troubled and inarticu- 
late as their utterance sometimes was, they rank as pioneers of the first 
category. And furthermore they did not shrink from paying the price of 
their independence in anguish, isolation, and death. 

A perceptible distance separates these now classic pathfinders from their 
clamorous pendants and successors. It is a far cry from Cezanne, Gauguin, 
and Van Gogh to Henri-Matisse, Pablo Picasso, Francis Picabia, ei alii. 
You are compelled to take a still more extended stride in order to find your- 
self abreast of Severini, Russolo, Boccioni, and the Italian Futurists. Matisse 
presents a mixture of naive sophistication and deliberate savagery. Picasso 
deals in a species of plastic geometry, and Picabia seeks to convey his im- 
pressions of the universe visible and occult by means of a series of ingeniously 
assembled cubes. The distinction between Cubist and Futurist is that the 
former strives to express volume in the most elementary fashion known 
to human concept, while the aim of the latter is to create upon canvas the 
sensation of ceaseless, synchronous motion. The one is static, the other 
kinetic. 

Once the importance of the lesson taught by the pioneer spirits had been 
grasped, the field of operation, as we have seen, rapidlj' extended itself. 
The backward swing of the pendulum toward the primal spontaneity of 
untutored effort followed as a matter of course, and within a few brief years 
we were greeted with the apparition of Henri-^SIatisse. Others, less radical 
of temper, such as JNIaurice Denis, Hngered appealingly with the Italian 
Primitives, yet all conceded that it was no longer the exclusive function of 
art to relate facts, but to communicate sensations; not to record life, but to 
interpret life. It was soon found that rhythm had been neglected, that form 
had lost its original significance, and that, above all else, the visible world 
had ceased to be employed as a vehicle for arousing emotion, but was doing 
service as the actual object of emotion. 

As Henri-Matisse is the accredited head of the present movement, it may 



[20] 



CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 

not be inappropriate to consider at somewhat closer range his personahty and 
principles. This arch-enemy of convention inhabits a charming villa at Issy- 
les-Moulineaux, in the suburbs of Paris. He is fond of his garden and dogs, 
and is a devoted husband and father. His studio is large, square, thoroughly 
workmanlike and painted white without and within. It is here amid normal 
salubrious surroundings that he perpetrates those huge, schematic panels, 
elementary essays in still-life, and primitive adventures in plastic form which 
are acclaimed in Germany, Russia, and Austria, which make a sensation in 
Paris, and create consternation in America. There is however nothing in 
the artistic credo of this mild-mannered iconoclast to frighten or confuse. 
Alike in word and deed he typifies the customary reaction against academic 
ascendancy and the futiUty of conventional formulae which one encounters 
elsewhere. His ideas are concisely set forth, and his canvases, while they 
may repel because of their brutal insistence upon outline and broad spaces 
filled with primary colours, are in no sense obscure. 

"I began," said Matisse, in a recently published interview, "like every- 
body else, at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts. When I started to paint, I painted 
for a time like everyone else. But things did not go well, and I was very 
unhappy. Then, little by little, I strove to paint not as I had been taught 
but as I felt. One cannot do successful work which shows feeling unless one 
sees the subject simply, and one must do this in order to express oneself as 
clearly as possible. Now, although certain conservatives accuse me of hav- 
ing dispensed with drawing, harmony, and composition, such is by no means 
the case. Drawing is for me the art of being able to express myself in line. 
When an artist or student renders a figure with painstaking care the result 
is drawing, not emotion. A true artist cannot see colour that is not har- 
monious. He should express his feelings by means of the harmonic sense 
of colour which he innately possesses. He should above all express a vision 
of colour, the resultant harmony of which corresponds to his feeling. Now 
take that table," he added, indicating a table near by upon which stood a 
jar of flowers, "I do not paint the table, I paint the emotion it arouses in me." 

As the connecting link between the Neo-Impressionists and the Cubists, 
Matisse occupies a significant position. In his search for motives coloristic, 
decorative, or plastic, he has gone by turns to Persia'or to Polynesia, and has 
produced eftects that are both reminiscent and revolutionary. He stands 
as the one artist of the modern school who succeeded^in giving painting its 

[21] 



I M PRESSIONS 



definitive impulse toward the abstract. His existence is inconceivable without 
taking into consideration his Impressionist forbears, and, had it not been for 
him, Cubism could scarcely have come into being. 

Quite as logical as had been its predecessors, the next step was taken by 
Pablo Picasso, whose basic ideas may be found in Pythagoras, and the prin- 
ciples of whose method were long since formulated by Plato. Simple ele- 
mentalism herewith gives place to subtle geometrizing, with the result that 
we are at last free from all taint of imitation, and watch unfold before us a 
world of visual imagery accountable to itself alone. The austere, Iberian 
temperament of Picasso, which makes appeal almost exclusively through an 
inherent plasticity of design, is supplemented in the work of Picabia by 
a warmer, moi'e sensuous tonality and a kindred desire to create, not to 
copy. Call it optical music, emotional mathematics, or by whatever term 
you choose, the pi-oduction of Picasso, Picabia, Leger, Gleizes, and their 
colleagues cannot be dismissed as mere impertinent pleasantry. Something 
of that passionate self-absorption which characterized the great seers of the 
past finds reflection in the aims and activities of these men. 

In order rightly to appreciate the sequence of development let us take 
a glance at Francis Picabia in his studio in the avenue Charles Floquet, 
Paris, or better, in the cafe of the Brevoort, for Picabia is known in New York 
as well as in the French capital. Born of a French mother and Cu))an father, 
Picabia is short and dark with heavy frame and delicately chiselled features. 
While his personality suggests intensity of feeling, you instantly recognize in 
him a lucid, logical intellect with an extraordinary gift for abstract reasoning. 
In common with most young Frenchmen of artistic predilections Picabia first 
went to the ateliers for preliminary training. It was not long however be- 
fore he experienced a profound distaste for the work and teaching of his 
Ijreceptors and posted oft' to Southern France in order to paint according to his 
own liking, amid resplendent sunshine and the sheen of olive tree. His first 
outdoor studies, which were impressionistic in spirit, soon became individual 
in vision and treatment. "Here," he one day exclaimed standing before a 
glowing canvas, "is a song of colour which, without imitation or reminiscence, 
induces fresh sensations and arouses new sentiments. Away with form, and 
all attempt at materialization. Open wide the doorway leading toward the 
symphony of colour ! " 

It was on a bleak February afternoon at the Brevoort, with the sparse trees 

[ 21 ] 



CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 

tossed about by the fitful wind, and the motor busses buflfeting their way 
against the storm, when Picabia condescended to elucidate for me the inner 
working's of the Cubist mind. "Cubism," he began, "is not a conspiracy; it 
is a creed. Every Cubist is different, yet collectively they constitute part 
of the modern movement in art or, rather, the art of the future. The term 
Cubist, which, like the term Impressionist, was first applied in derision, we 
have adopted in all gratitude and good faith. The cube, you recall, is the 
third dimension of matter — that of depth, volume, or thickness. Now be- 
cause we exponents of the new art have attempted to express what is beneath 
the surface — that which is not perceptible to the eye, or to any of the ma- 
terial senses, someone christened us Cubists, or workers in the third dimen- 
sion. But why, let me ask, stop at the third dimension, or the fourth, for 
that matter? There are no limits to imagination and emotion save those 
imposed by habit or convention." The wind still swept across the grey, 
asphalt spaces in front of the hotel and whipped into submission man and 
beast alike. Picabia disdained the liqueurs which had been deposited upon 
the marble-topped table by a solicitous gargon and continued in measured, 
carefully modulated periods. He recounted with minute detail the inevitable 
transition which he and his circle had made from the new to the still newer. 
The various members of the original group, which was called La Section d'Or, 
have in brief gone their several ways, while he in turn has passed from Cubism 
to Orphism, in response to a call, real or fancied, from the passionate, fateful 
lyrist who epitomizes the divinity of music and song. 

On concluding, Picabia peered across the table to see whether or not I had 
followed him with the requisite sympathy and comprehension. I am proud to 
record that he seemed reassured, yet all the while I could not keep my thoughts 
from the pathetic singer whose name the new cult has chosen in order to 
make their programme clearer to the popular mind. I recalled that Or- 
pheus not alone sang and stroked his lyre among the sunlit hills and beside 
sparkling streams, but also down in the gloomy shades of the underworld, 
where pathways were devious and uncertain. 

Although it was not my good fortune to assist at the debut of the Futurists 
in Paris, I subsequently encountered the exhibition in Hamburg, and also 
in Copenhagen, where I made acquaintance with the work of these veritable 
anarchists in paint. In their impetuous, Latin fashion, they go further 
toward destruction and demolition than do any of their colleagues. If Cubism 

[23] 



IMPRESSIONS 



is a creed, Futurism is a challenge. This virulent, not to say savage, assault 
upon aesthetic convention was first delivered by the Italian poet and pam- 
phleteer Marinetti at a public gathering held in the Chiarella Theatre at 
Turin, on the evening of March 8, 1910. The meeting was stormy and tumul- 
tuous. The opposition attempted to cry down Signor Marinetti, but the 
resourceful propagandist silenced the crowd by dexterously catching an orange 
which had been shied at his head. This he peeled, quartered, and ate with 
engaging unconcern. The incident saved the day, and he thereupon pro- 
ceeded to read the now famous manifesto of the Futurist Painters, which may 
be designated as their profession of faith. Having stated their case, we were 
in due season permitted to see how these same ideas looked when trans- 
ferred to canvas, and I do not hesitate to add that the sensation they created 
far exceeded the stir caused by the Post-Impressionists and Cubists. 

Amid a vast amount of violence and bombast there lurk, at the basis 
of Futurism, certain valuable and invigorating truths. As an artistic 
demonstration it is virile and anti-sentimental. It is exhilarating, positive, 
and nationalistic. In no country save Italy could such tendencies have 
taken form, for the Futurist art is innately vivid, colourful, and effective. 
It is the desire of the Futurist to interpret life as it throbs and surges about 
him, to catch its movement, to convey a sense of its complexity, both visual 
and psychic. Everything that one sees, thinks, feels, or recalls may be 
crowded into a Futurist canvas. These men are striving, one and all, to 
desti'oy the traditional fixity of impression. They aim to demolish the 
theory that a given scene is unalterably focussed in the eye. Their art 
typifies not unity, but diversity, not that which is dead and immobile, but 
that which is vital, fluxional, and dynamic. 

Is it necessary to lure you farther into the feverish, questing atmosphere 
of modernism — into this arena where the battle for aesthetic freedom is 
being waged so fiercely and tempestuously? You will in any event en- 
counter the same phenomena from Stockholm to Naples, from Bordeaux to 
Budapest. Young men the world over are striving as never before to re- 
juvenate painting. That many, nay, most of them, are sincere is beyond 
question. That they will succeed in their eft'orts to create visual music, to 
found a new language of form and colour, is a question which may be dis- 
creetly left to the future. Meantime, while it can scarcely be maintained 
that they have produced anything approximating the supreme sovereignty 

[24] 



CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 

of a masterpiece, they have injected into the pictorial and plastic arts a 
spirited, energizing impulse which has already proved of immeasurable 
benefit. 

It is futile to expend one's energies debating whether such tentative mani- 
festations as those under discussion have, or have not, any rightful place in 
art. The fact remains that they are here, hanging upon our walls, and that 
alone must go far toward justifying their existence. There is scant doubt 
but that much of this work is predominantly occult, or even at times posi- 
tively hieratic. And still, despite what may be termed its over-individuali- 
zation, it presages a profound spiritual rebirth in the province of aesthetic 
endeavour. There is little else to the so-called revolution in art than 
simply this. Its particularity of utterance will undoubtedly vanish, and its 
inner significance only will survive, since in any event our eyes, after a brief 
interval, become adjusted to method and are responsive to meaning alone. 

Though it cannot be held that America has taken conspicuous part in 
the creation of these turbulent artistic currents we have not been oblivious 
of their existence. The most auspicious and authoritative note has been 
struck by Henry Golden Dearth, whose recent canvases are individual in 
conception, brilliant in colour, and highly decorative in arrangement. Im- 
pressionism having attained its final accent in the delectable outdoor confec- 
tions of Frieseke, our less timid men have turned to fresher fields. Alfred 
Maurer and Arthur B. Davies, already well established along conservative 
lines, have espoused the cause of Expressionism. In addition, there are 
others, including Steichen, Stei'ne, Weber, Dove, Hartley, and the like who 
have declared themselves pronounced apostles of novelty. The combined 
effect of these various and varied foci of activity is felt mainly in its secon- 
dary phases, no specific programme having been thus far evolved. The 
local exhibitions are nevertheless brighter and more stimulating in aspect 
than was formerly the case, for which we must thank the exponents of the 
new movement, of whose existence neither the public nor the most indurated 
academician can remain unmindful. 

Great things were freely predicted for American art following the initial 
influx of these stimulating and progressive foreign ideas. It is however only 
vaguely realized in certain quarters that, in order to paint like Gauguin it is 
necessary to live, think, and feel like Gauguin, or that, in order to fill a canvas 
after the fashion of Picasso, it is essential to possess the plastic vision and 

[25] 



IMPRESSIONS 



profound cerebral concentration of Picasso himself. Mere imitation, to which 
we are already too prone, will never produce anything significant or enduring, 
and, what should be taken to heart, is not the form but — let us once more add 
— the spirit of this work. The fact that one finds in Picabia, for example, 
a mingling of logic and lyricism which derives direct from the Impressionists 
and blends into the delicate exaltation of a new Orphism, should inspire 
our young men not to paint polymorphically, but look to their own traditions 
and sensibilities and see what they are capable of bringing forth. That 
which we, as a nation, above all else need is a more robust and decisive racial 
consciousness in matters artistic. And it is this lesson that the current 
agitation, despite its incidental crudity and incoherence, manifestly inculcates. 

If, in fine, we are to accomplish something vital in art we must strive 
to purge ourselves alike from timidity and from pedantic prejudice. There 
is no phase of activity or facet of nature that should be forbidden the creative 
artist. The X-ray may quite as legitimately claim his attention as the 
rainbow, and, if he so desire, he is equally entitled to renounce the static and 
devote his energies to the kinetoscopic. If the discoveries of Chevreul and 
Rood in the realm of optics proved of substantial assistance to the Impres- 
sionists, there is scant reason why those of von Rontgen or Edison along 
other lines should be ignored by Expressionist and Futurist. There is, in 
any event, little occasion for alarm, since to no matter what lengths our 
restless Nietzscheans of brush, palette, and chisel may go, they cannot de- 
stroy the accumulated treasury of the past. The point is that they will add 
nothing thereto, unless they keep alive that primal wonder and curiosity 
concerning the universe, both visible and invisible, which was characteristic of 
the caveman, and which has proved the mainstay of art throughout successive 
centuries. 

It matters little, in the end, whether the message of art be conveyed 
through the employment of lines, dots, dashes, cubes, or spheres. The tech- 
nical idiom is something that alters with each generation, each decade, almost. 
What is essential is that the general public, and not a few of the painters, too, 
be continually awakened, shocked if necessary, into a realization of the 
fact that art is a living organism which must reflect the temper of its time 
or degenerate into a sterile and soulless formula. The Futurists, in anar- 
chistic frenzy, call upon us to demolish the museums and obliterate all con- 
nexion with an effete and futile past. No one else would be willing to ven- 



[26] 



CONTEMPORARY PAINTING 

ture quite so far, and yet it behoves us to inquire whether there is anything 
wrong with the art to which we have long been placidly accustomed. 

Reference has been made to the penalty that painting has been forced 
to pay for pursuing its policy of aloofness, for losing direct contact with 
daily life and need. The fact has never, it seems, been more apparent than 
at the present time. Not only has the breach between painter and patron 
grown wider, but the barrier between the artist and the public has, in cer- 
tain instances, become wellnigh impassable. Though neither side is wholly 
to blame, both are clearly at fault. Cubism, Futurism, Orphism, Vorticism, 
and the like are not diseases, they are symptoms. For the disease itself, 
if such it be, one must look farther afield. Survey the achievement of the 
ages and you cannot fail to note that modern society offers less and less 
scope for that patient, often anonymous effort which fostered the master- 
pieces, pictorial and plastic, of preceding generations. Contemporary art is 
for the most part paraded before the common gaze for a few days, weeks, or 
months, and then immured in vast, impersonal edifices where it is inspected 
by the incurious and indifferent on Sundays and holidays. The conditions 
under which it is both produced and exhibited could scarcely be more false 
and unfruitful. We have in brief taken from the artist much that was for- 
merly his, and he doubtless feels forced to call attention to his existence in 
ways that are often purposely sensational. 

It is either immature or indurate to condemn or deride the countless isms 
that now and then disturb the sometimes too tranquil surface of contempor- 
ary art. There is in each a germ of verity and a wholesome fund of fermenta- 
tion. And furthermore the latter-day painter or sculptor is by no means 
unique in his desire to create new forms or recombine old ones. Correspond- 
ing changes are taking place in music, poetry, the theatre, and the dance. 
In confronting these more advanced manifestations of the modern spirit we 
should strive in as far as possible to place ourselves in the position of the 
artist himself, for, whatever his title to fame or oblivion, he in no sense stands 
alone. He is, let us remember, but the eloquent and responsive offspring of 
his particular day and generation. Current artistic endeavour favours the 
frankly intensive appeal rather than the mere materialization of external 
appearances. With the ancients painting remained a submissive servant. 
With Whistler it became an aesthetic adventure. With us it is more and 
more assuming the aspect of a subjective experience. 

[27] 



THE PANAMA CALIFORNIA 
EXPOSITION 




Panama-CaXifornia Exposition, San Diego 



Photograph by Francis Bruguiere 



TOWER AND DOME OF CALIFORNIA BUILDING 
CRAM, GOODHUE, AND FERGUSON, ARCHITECTS 



[30] 



THE PANAMA-CALIFORNIA 
EXPOSITION 



IT must be confessed that the congenital penchant for hyperbole which 
obtains west of the Mississippi led one to be cautious, not alone of 
the Grand Canon, but of the eloquently exploited expositions at San 
Diego and San Francisco. Superlatives not unwarrantably make for sus- 
picion, yet in none of these instances was there occasion for undue conserva- 
tism. Like the thumb-print of God pressed into the surface of the earth 
so that man may forever identify His handiwork, the Canon transcends 
the possibilities of verbal or pictorial expression. Although by no means so 
ambitious as its competitor, or rather its complement, farther northward 
along the historic Camino Real, the Panama-California Exposition had scant 
reason to fear comparison with the Panama-Pacific, of which it was both the 
logical and chronological prologue. Restricted in area though rich in sug- 
gestion, the San Diego Exposition was a synthesis of the spacious Southwest. 
It seemed to have sprung spontaneously from the soil and the vivid race con- 
sciousness of those who inhabit this vast and fecund hinterland. Regional, 
in the sense that the recent Baltic Exposition at Malmo, and the Valencian 
Exposition of 1909 were regional, it was at once more concentrated and more 
characteristic than either of those memorable displays. Though you may 
have seen many expositions you have encountered none like this blue-tiled, 
white-walled city, set amid luxuriant semi-tropical vegetation and flanked 
on one side by a deeply incised arroyo, and on the other by the azure expanse 
of the sea. On crossing the majestic Puente Cabrillo you entered the Plaza 
de Cahfornia, or Cahfornia Quadrangle, the architecture of which furnished 
the keynote of the exposition. To the left was the California Building which 
exemplified the cathedral type, to the right was the Fine Arts Building which 
conformed to the better-known mission style. These latter structures are per- 
manent, and are not only a credit to the exposition and municipal authorities, 

[31] 



IMPRESSIONS 







T 

\ 






. _^j4^^^b''*'^ 






K -•' .-■ 


. ^..^ ,-.'■, T-r^atm 




arr. 







Panama-California Exposition, Sati Diego 

VIEW FROM ACROSS THE CANOX DE CABRIJ.LO 

but reveal in new and congenial light the varied talent of their designer, Mr. 
Bertram G. Goodhue. At San Diego you had in brief something that at 
once struck a picturesque and appropriate note. The remaining buildings, 
which were of composite authorship, all continued the Spanish-Colonial motive 
with conspicuous success. None of them was in the least out of harmony with 
the general scheme, and there was not one that did not display uncommon 
capacity for the assimilation and adaptation of this ornate and effective 
architectural style. 

It was impossible not to respond to the seductive flavour and opulent fancy 
of such an offering as confronted one at Balboa Park, a large measure of the 
success of which was due to the creative energy and vision of the director of 
works, jMr. Frank P. Allen, Jr. Climatic conditions and lavish planting 
effects here royally concur in assisting the architect. Almost every conceiv- 
able flower, shrub, and tree attains unwonted magnificence. The sun is 
brilliant but does not burn, and the close proximity of the sea softens and 
freshens the atmosphere without undue preponderance of moisture. Pro- 
ceed along the acacia-lined Prado which constitutes the main axis of the 
permanent plan, stroll under the cloisters, linger in the patios, or follow one 
of the countless calcadas, or pathways, skirting the crest of the hill, and you 



[32] 




\ Panama-California Exposition, San Diego 



Photograph by Francis Bruguiere- 



ENTRANCE FAgADE, CALIFORNIA BUILDING 



[33] 



THE PANAMA-CALIFORNIA EXPOSITION 




Pmwmn-Ccthforjiin Erpn-tHinrt, Snn Diego 



LOOKING ACROSS THE ESPLANADE 



will experience the sensation of being in the gardens of a tj^pical Mexican 
mission. The mind indeed travels farther back — back to the Alcazar of 
Sevilla, the Generalife, and to remote and colourful Byzantium. Unlike 
most of its predecessors, the San Diego Exposition did not convey an impres- 
sion of impermanency. The luxuriance of the floral and arboreal accompani- 
ments effectually dispelled any such feeling. Yet behind this was a distinct 
sense of inevitability which derived from the fact that here was something 
which was at one with the land and its people — a visible expression of the 
collective soul of the Southwest. 

It need scarcely be assumed, however, that this radiant city which smiled 
down from its green-capped acropolis came into being over night, as it were. 
Behind this symphony of beauty was a background of solid endeavour and 
serious research along widely divergent lines. Mr. Goodhue's California 
Building is a successful adaptation to exposition exigencies of the impres- 
sively ornate cathedral at Oaxaca, Mexico. The New Mexico State Build- 
ing, with its more severe silhouette and massive weathered beams protruding 
from the exterior walls, was a free amplification of the famous adobe mission 
of the Indian pueblo of Acoma, the "sky city," dating from 1699. The funda- 

[35] 



IMPRESSIONS 



mentally composite parentage of Spanish architecture has never l)een better 
illustrated than in these various structures where you were confronted by 
turns with details Roman and Rococo, Late Gothic and Renaissance, Classic 
and Churrigueresque. Still, despite this manifest complexity of origin and 
inspiration, the ensemble achieved the effect of complete unity. The very 
flexibility of the style employed proved its greatest asset when it came to 
solving problems of such a nature. You in short witnessed at San Diego the 
veritable revival of Spanish-Colonial architecture, and you will scarcely fail 
to concede that as a medium it is as perfectly adapted to the physical and 
social conditions of the Southwest as is the English-Colonial, or Georgian, 
to the needs of the East. Had the Panama-California Exposition accom- 
plished nothing else, this rehabilitation of our Spanish-Colonial heritage 
would have amply justified its existence. 

The same consistency of aim and idea which characterized the architec- 
tural features of the exposition obtained in other fields of activity. It was 
the intention of those in charge to show processes rather than products, and 
nowhere was this more significantly set forth than in the California Build- 
ing, which enshrined examples of the stupendous plastic legacy of the Maya 
civilization, and in the Indian Arts Building, which was devoted to displays 
of the craftsmanship of the present-day Indian of the Southwest. To begin 
with the deep-rooted substratum of primitive effort that stretches back into 
dim antiquity, and to follow its development down to modern days, entails 
no small amount of labour and scholarship. For this task the exposition 
authorities were fortunate in securing the services of Dr. Edgar L. Hewett and 
a corps of competent assistants from the Smithsonian Institution, Washing- 
ton. Dr. Hewett is one of that rapidly increasing number of scientists who 
feel the indissoluble connexion between ethnology and aesthetics. Nothing 
finer has thus far been accomplished than his installation of the several ex- 
hibits in this particular section. The collections of pottery, rugs, baskets, 
and domestic utensils, and the detailed series of drawings illustrating that 
graphic symbolism which is an inherent element in all aboriginal artistic ex- 
pression, were as extensive as they were stimulating. On comparing these 
latter with the canvases devoted to native type and scene in the Fine Arts 
Building, one was forced to conclude that tlie capacity for pictorial repre- 
sentation has diminished rather than increased with the advent of our latter- 
day art schools and academies. 



[36] 




Panama-California Exposition, San Diego 



A MISSION PATIO 

SOUTHERN COUNTIES BUILDING 



[37] 



THE PANAMA-CALIFORNIA EXPOSITION 

You can scarcely expect perfection, even in such an exposition as that 
at San Diego, and it is in the choice of paintings for this same Fine Arts Build- 
ing that one may point to a certain lapse from an otherwise consistently 
maintained standard. It is not that the exhibitors in question are not ad- 
mirable artists. It is simply that their particular contribution did not fit 
into what in other respects seemed a carefully matured programme. San 
Diego is so rich in the fundamental sources of beauty and feeling, that, had 




Panama-California Exposition, San Diego 

COMMERCE AND INDUSTRIES BUILDINGS 



there been no paintings whatever on view, one would have had scant cause 
for complaint. The welcome absence of the customary flatulent and dropsical 
statuary, which was such a happy feature of the exterior arrangements, might 
well have been supplemented by the exclusion of the sophisticated canvas. 
Intensive rather than extensive in appeal, basing itself frankly upon local 
interest and tradition, conscious of its inheritance and looking with confidence 
toward the future, the Panama-California Exposition proved a model of its 
kind. If this gleaming little city perched upon its green-crested mesa taught 
anything, it taught that the most precious things in life and art are those 
which lie nearest the great, eloquent heart of nature. The subtle process of 
interaction that forever goes silently on between man and his surroundings, 
and the identity between that which one sees and feeds upon and that which 
one produces, are facts which you found convincingly vindicated by the San 

[39] 



IMPRESSIONS 



Diego Exposition. It was more than a mere show-window of the Southwest. 
Ahke in its architecture and its specific offerings it typified the richness and 
romance not alone of New Spain but of immemorial America. 

There is every reason to hope that the expositions of the future may, 
consciously or unconsciously, pattern themselves upon that of San Diego. 
We have for generations been surfeited with ambitious international and 
universal undertakings which invariably leave in their wake a sense of 
physical fatigue and mental confusion, not to say chaos. The scramble for 
cosmopolitanism is in itself one of the surest indications of provinciality. It 
behoves us in matters aesthetic to foster individual, independent initiative, 
as well as to familiarize ourselves with the achievement of our neighbours 
from overseas. The lesson which may be learned from the simple, silent 
craftsman of the Southwest — the native weaver or potter — is one that may 
well be taken to heart. 




Panama-California Exposition, San Diego 

ENTRANCE TO THE VARIED INDUSTRIES BUILDING 



[40] 



THE PANAMA-PACIFIC 
EXPOSITION 




Panama-Pnrifir Exposition, San Francisco 



SCULPTURE AT ENTRANCE OF THE FESTIVAL HALL 
BY SHERRY E. FRY 

[42] 



THE PANAMA-PACIFIC 
EXPOSITION 



THE ideals which animated the makers of the Panama-Pacific Ex- 
position were difi^erent from those that served to inspire the creators 
of the Panama-CaUfornia. It was not simply the civilization west 
of the Rockies which they aimed to exploit. Their scope was not local, 
nor even national. It was international. Confronted by such a situation 
the architects, sculptors, and painters were forced to extend their field 
of activity and broaden their sympathies. No single style would have 
sufficed. Diverse factors had to be pressed into service, and out of this 
diversity it was necessary to evolve a sense of harmonious unity. More 
practical than traditional, the problem entailed tact, resourcefulness, and 
ingenuity. Though it was difficult save in a broad way to place restrictions 
upon form, it was quite possible to control the element of colour, and herein 
lies the exposition's claim to originality. Festal and jubilant in detail, the 
Panama-Pacific was brilliantly chromatic in general aspect. The whole was 
fused into a colour fantasia at once logical and agreeable. Had its magic 
been dispelled the ensemble would have lapsed into something closely re- 
sembling ornate commonplaceness. 

A preliminary stroll along the principal concourses and through the main 
courts was sufficient to convince one of the eclectic character of the architecture 
of the San Francisco Exposition. Entering from Scott Street you found your- 
self in a stately formal garden which was French in inspiration. To the left was 
the Palace of Horticulture, Byzantine in origin and Gallic in ornamentation. 
On the right was Festival Hall, which recalled the Theatre des Beaux-Arts, 
Paris. Directly facing you was the Tower of Jewels, which based itself upon 
various Italian Renaissance prototypes. Recalling the spacious area in front 
of St. Peter's in Rome, the Court of the Universe was also Italian Renais- 
sance in persuasion, while the pardonably pretentious Column of Progress 

[43] 



IMPRESSIONS 



resembled siniilai- shafts dedicated to Trajan and ^Marcus Aurelius. It would 
be superfluous to trace in detail the genealogy of the exposition architecture. 
You had the intricacy of Spanish Gothic, the massive simplicity of the 
Romanesque, the fertility of the Renaissance, and that serenity of spirit 
which remains the imperishable legacy of the Greeks. From the standpoint 
of serious criticism, if such an attitude be not incompatible with our theme, 
the best efforts were the Palace of Horticulture and the Palace of Fine Arts. 
The former was one of the most diverting and satisfactory of the entire group. 
The latter, for breadth of conception and nobility of design, stood unap- 
proached. A special feature was made of the several contiguous courts, all of 
which were given euphonious names. They varied in merit, and in general 
may be said to have been more expositional than inspirational. 

There were eleven units in the central plan, eight of which were assembled 
within the so-called "walled city." To each of these, the basic tonality of 
which was the now popular travertine, the director of colour applied his 
favourite tints. Beyond question the result was stimulating, and, in the main, 
successful. The least variegated, and most effective, was the Palace of Horti- 
culture, where the only colour used was lattice green. In a building such as 
the Palace of Fine Arts the structural integrity was not enhanced by the 
profuse employment of ochre, verde antique, burnt orange, and Pompeian red. 
Granting the ephemeral nature of the task in hand it nevertheless seems that 
colour should on principle be less superficial than inherent. ^Ir. Guerin's 
inspiration was frankly scenic. He gave us a pastel city, joyously poly- 
chromatic, replete with beauty, and of rainbow evanescence. 

It is difficult to plan an exposition such as the Panama-Pacific without 
facing certain serious issues, not the least of which may be designated as the 
plastic problem. Boldly to suppress sculpture as they did at San Diego 
was of course out of the question in an undertaking of similar pretension. 
There was apparently nothing to do save adhere to the customary symbolic 
tradition, to fall back upon perennial abstractions more or less loosely em- 
bodied in relief or in the round. The sculpture at San Francisco, wliile 
suffering from the usual congenital defects, was, however, more closely related 
to the architectural ensemble than has frequently been the case. Grate- 
ful mention should be made in this connexion of ^Ir. Putnam's Mermaids, 
adorning the fountains in the South Gardens, of Mrs. Burroughs's Fountain of 
Youth in tlie east tower colonnade, of INIr. !Manship's four groups in the Court 

[44] 




[45] 



THE PANAMA-PACIFIC EXPOSITION 




Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
COLONNADE AND PALACE OF FINE ARTS 



BERNARD R. MAYBECK, ARCHITECT 



of the Universe, and Mr. Fraser's The End of the Trail at the entrance to the 
Court of Palms. As for the generality of the work in this particular medium 
it scarcely, save in a few instances, transcended mediocrity. One contem- 
plated such set pieces as the Nations of the East and the Nations of the West 
with but scant enthusiasm, and when it came to monuments like the Genius 
of Creation one conceded the lofty seriousness of purpose while at the same 
time regretting that such concepts have in large measure ceased to move 
or inspire. After exhibiting manifest promise, our sculpture seems to have 
remained stationary. Thus far we have assuredly failed to produce a mighty 
emotionalist in marble, such as Rodin, or a sturdy-souled apostle of labour, 
such as Constantin Meunier. 

What has been said of the sculpture at the Panama-Pacific Exposition 
applies in a measure to the mural decoration. These ambitious panels seemed 
as a general thing to lack conviction. Mr. Dodge's apotheosis of the Atlan- 
tic and Pacific in the Tower of Jewels, and Mr. Brangwyn's series dedicated to 
the Air, Earth, Fire, and Water were distinctly better than was the work of 

[47] 



IMPRESSIONS 




Pananta-Pacifir Expo.?iliori, San Fr<ni<-i.~i-'' 

niSCOVERY— MURAL PAINTING IN THE TOWER OF JEWELS 



BY W. DE LEFTWICH UODGE 



their colleagues. Full of verve and true to the limitations of his craft, Mr. 
Dodge achieved a fine effect. Always opulent in line and ample in pattern, 
Mr. Brangwyn's subjects, each of which was treated in duplicate, revealed this 
artist in congenial vein. He takes us back, in these broadly handled com- 
positions, to the days when the world was young and the primal wonder 
of man began to manifest itself in countless questing ways. There is a definite 
pictorial idea in each of these rich-toned panels. The figures group them- 
selves logically and move in unison. You are never in doubt as to the painter's 
meaning. His method is not that of the vague symbolist. It is that of the 
earnest-minded seeker after the inherent possibilities of graphic represen- 
tation. Conceived in less serious spirit, the other murals served their pur- 
pose sufficiently well. Mr Simmons's scheme was full of technical novelty 
and interest. Mr. Reid's decorations in the dome of the rotunda of the 
Palace of Fine Arts constituted a joyous cycle, and Mr. Hassam's contribution 
to the Court of Palms was instinct with lyric lightness. Whatever their 
shortcomings in the matter of fundamental ideas or depth of feeling, these 
latter men approached their task in appropriately festal mood, which, after 
all, was the important consideration in the given circumstance. 

[48] 



THE PANAMA-PACIFIC EXPOSITION 



While it is difficult to condense one's impressions of the Panama-Pacific 
Exposition into summary phrases, it nevertheless appears that its ultimate 
significance will prove social and psychological as well as aesthetic. The 
love of form and colour which you here saw displayed in such prodigal 
fashion suggested something pagan and Dionysian. Demonstrations of this 
character do not date from to-day. They are as old as humanity itself. 
They hark back to Rome and to Greece, to the basin of the Nile and the 
banks of the Euphrates. In spirit this exposition was akin to the pageants 
and processionals of bygone times. Phoenix-like, a city rose from darkness 
and disaster, and her children united in offering their tribute of appreciation 
and propitiation. There was downright inspiration in such a magnificent dis- 
play of energy, such a marvellous demonstration of recuperative power. 
The opening of the Canal to the traffic of the universe was an excuse, a mere 
pretext; the essential point is that here was a community teeming with energy 




Copyright, The Panama-Pacific Exposition Co. 

SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST: DETAIL FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF THE EARTH 



BY ROBERT I, AITKEN 



[49] 



IMPRESSIONS 



and taking legitimate pride in a phenomenal achievement. And such 
emotions found fitting semblance in visible form, in architecture, sculpture, 
and the heightened eloquence of tint and tone. 

While San Diego kept modestly within the confines of a concise and char- 
acterful local tradition, San Francisco proclaimed herself a world creation. 
That element of cosmopolitanism which is by no means her least claim to at- 
tention was constantly to the fore in the Panama-Pacific Exposition. Colour, 
all things considered, proved the dominant contribution of the undertaking as 
a whole, and this is consistent, for colour is the keynote alike of the Pacific 
slope and of the spacious and vibrant Southwest. In the East our taste for 
chromatic expression has been modified by generations of Puritan and Quaker 
constraint. West of the Rockies it is more free and spontaneous. You find 
it in nature and in man. You find it in the vanishing Indian, in the 
mellifluous place names bestowed by the early padres and pobladores, and in 
the racy phraseology of the prospector who first opened the region to his 
less intrepid transcontinental kinsfolk. 




Panama- Piiripr Espo^ilmn, San Fr^i 
THE HARVEST— SCULPTIRE 



BV PAUL MANSHIP 



[50] 



FOUR DECORATIONS BY 
FRANK BRANGWYN 

For the East Court of the 

Panama-Pacific International Exposition 

at San Francisco 

THE panels were painted for the ambulatory 
that surrounded the open court, of which 
Louis C. Mullgardt was the architect. They were 
placed in the four corners, one on each wall, where 
it made the corner, and each measured twenty- 
five feet by twelve feet. The canvases reflect 
the spiritof humanity and of work. Mr. Brangwyn 
chose as subjects the four elements — Air, Earth, 
Fire, Water — each represented by two panels. 




Copyright. Panama-Pacific International Exposition Co. 



AIR— THE WINDMILL 
BY FRANK BRANGWYN 



I 




EARTH I.— DANCING THE GRAPES 
BY FRANK BRANGWYN 



1 




Copyright, Panama-Pacitic International Exposition Co. 



EARTH II.— THE FRUIT PICKERS 
BY FRANK BRANGWYN 



i 




Copyright, Fanama-Pacihc International Exposition Co, 



M^ATER— THE FOUNTAIN 
BY FRANK BRANGWYN 



NIGHT EFFECTS AT THE FAIR 

Photographs showing the nocturnal 
lighting that proved a distinctive 
feature of the Panama-Pacific 
Exposition at San Francisco. 




Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



COLONNADE FKONTING 
PALACE OF FINE ARTS 



[55] 




Panama-Pacific Expusitioii, San Francisco 



PART OF THE COURT 
OF THE FOUR SEASONS 



[57] 




[59] 




Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



THE TOWER OF JEWELS 



[61] 




Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 

EAST FACADE, HORTICULTURE BUILDING 




Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



COURT OF THE FOUR SEASONS 



[63] 



SCULPTURE 
NATIVE AND FOREIGN 




Panama'Pacific Expositi-m. Sun Franrisro 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 
jBY JAMES EARLE ERASER 



[66] 



SCULPTURE 
NATIVE AND FOREIGN 



THERE can be scant question but that sculpture as displayed 
at our current exhibitions fails to attract the general public. In 
place of being a focus of interest it is usually surveyed with ill-dis- 
guised indifference or ignored save by a slender fraction of the 
chosen few. Unless something of a sensational character be on view the 
plastic arts do not compete upon even terms with painting, and are hence 
relegated to draughty anteroom or sepulchral subcellar. Though contin- 
ually seeing sculpture treated in inauspicious fashion we have come to regard 
the statue, the relief, or the bust, as different phases of the same necessary 
evil. They are forms of art which, in the popular mind at least, do not 
convincingly justify their existence. 

Such a condition of affairs naturally does not date from to-day, nor are 
its causes to be found in the immediate past. Sculpture since its initial 
florescence has submitted to various transitions. Marble was the inevitable 
medium in which the Hellenic ideal of beauty found expression. The jubilant 
richness of the Renaissance attained its apotheosis in bronze, while during 
the rose-tinted dawn of Gothic age the anonymous artist chiselled his naive 
fusion of paganism and piety into the surface of stone. In due course, how- 
ever, plastic representation, being restricted to considerations of form alone, 
found it increasingly difficult to reflect the complexity of contemporary 
feeling and aspiration. Cradled in joyous serenity, sculpture could not 
readily take upon itself the sorrows and mortification of the Christian faith. 
Its day of glory had passed, and thus painting, with its sensuous film of 
colour, and faculty of direct transposition, gradually wrested the primacy 
from its sister art and became the chosen handmaiden of Church and State. 
While one can scarcely contend that sculpture suffered an echpse, it can- 
not be denied that from this period onward it ceased to enjoy its one-time 

[67] 



IMPRESSIONS 



undisputed supremacy. Stray figures still haunted secluded, vine-covered 
niche, or graced tlie fountains and avenues of formal park and garden. Pagan 
laughter still lingered in the gay wantons of Clodion and Falconet, but the 
role played by the plastic arts was henceforth subsidiary. And yet it is 
not this perceptible loss of prestige which is responsible for the present plight 
of sculpture. It is rather due to that radical misconception of the functions 
of the art which followed close in the wake of the so-called classic revival. 
Turbulent and grandiose as he indubitably was, ^Michelangelo proved a less 
baneful influence than did such smug falsifiers of the antique spirit as Canova 
and Thorvaldsen. The assiduous imitation of these palpable imitators, and 
the persistent placing of statue and bust in inept and illogical surroundings, 
were the chief factors in the progressive alienation of sculpture from popular 
sympathy. Ruthlessly wrenched from their original setting, and displayed 
as mere detached curios with no feeling for background, either artistic or 
historical, it is scant wonder that these pathetic fugitives from a forgotten 
world held no message for the masses. Sculpture is a legitimate child of light 
and air. It is indissolubly wedded to an architectural, or at least a decorative 
ensemble, and, once this precious connexion is severed, the plastic spell is 
for ever broken. 

You will readily concede that sculpture survived numerous changes both 
social and aesthetic. It managed, as we have seen, to adjust itself to various 
media. It passed from pagan blitheness to appealing fraternalism, and came 
bravely down to modern times only to falter in the end through a series of 
unfortunate misapprehensions as to its true mission. The most conspicuous 
offenders in this respect have been, it cannot be too often repeated, the museum 
directors and other custodians who have continued to house the priceless 
heritage of antique civilization with callous incomprehension. Stark halls 
and dingy corridors have been congested with genuine originals or chalky 
casts that struggle in piteous futility for sunlight and the flash of green foliage. 
The intimate relationship between plastic form and nature has been almost 
wholly neglected, and, in consequence, few of us can be blamed for growing 
cold and unresponsive to the claims of this noblest and most exalted of all 
phases of artistic expression. 

Previous to the Centennial Exhibition of 1876 there was, strictly speaking, 
no sculpture worthy the appellation in America. While such primitives as 
William Rush and John Frazee practised their profession with commendable 



[68] 




French Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



YOUNG GIRL WITH WATER JAR 
BY JOSEPH BERXARD 



[69] 



SCULPTURE 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
THE OUTCAST 



BY ATTILIO PICCIRILLI 



integrity of purpose, they were hardly more than ill-equipped craftsmen. 
Whatever their shortcomings they are, nevertheless, entitled to an ampler 
measure of consideration than their pretentious successors, Horatio Greenough 
and Hiram Powers, who espoused the emasculated classicism so much in vogue 
during the early decades of the last century. Drifting farther and farther 
from the true Attic spirit, which is essentially concrete, they led the taste of 
the day into a realm of vapid abstraction. The sense of personality was sacri- 
ficed to a smooth, characterless finish. The figures showed no real vitality, 
and in general conception were the antithesis of that which is inherently 
sculptural. It was not indeed until our leading artists turned from Rome 
to Paris, from the immemorial dust of the city by the Tiber to the purple 
haze which hangs over the Seine, that conditions betrayed substantial im- 
provement. 

[71] 



IMPRESSIONS 



If it was the Paris-trained artists wlio, during the ensuing interval, made 
possible the splendid plastic pageant which was such an inspiring feature 
of the World's Columbian Exposition of 1893, it was likewise certain Paris men, 
with the assistance of a few home-taught talents, who were responsible for the 
results witnessed at San Francisco. Scidpture here for the first time in the 
annals of American art assumed its rightful place in a broadly conceived 
decorative scheme. Not only was it admirably correlated with archi- 
tecture; it was also accorded its proper position as a component part of 
the landscape. Having already touched upon the sculpture at the Panama- 
Pacific Exposition in its relation to the several buildings, we may turn to its 
application to more informal outdoor problems. While the ornamental and 
monumental sculpture at San Francisco was but a trifle less banal than cus- 
tomary, the various groups and single figures dotted about the grounds disclosed 
certain engaging effects. They appeared to the best advantage when most 
closely identified with natural surroundings. Those which created the finest 
impression were in fact those that seemed spontaneously to spring from their 
backgrounds. Sculpture of this character should be the epitome of earth, 
sky, tree, and plant. It is nature herself, it is the veritable spirit of place, 
which should suggest to the artist his theme and treatment, for only thus 
can he work with that sympathy and comprehension which make for lasting 
achievement. 

A leisurely, receptive stroll in the proximity of the Palace of Fine Arts was 
sufficient to vindicate the above contention. Silhouetted against luxuriant 
foliage or warm-toned wall surface were numerous familiar figures that 
never before appeared to like advantage. They are creatures of the open, 
these fauns, nymphs, shepherd lads, and playful water sprites. They demand, 
one and all, the shifting caress of light and shade and the fitful stir of the 
wind. While there are various matters upon which the Department of 
Fine Arts cannot be congratulated, it merits, in this particular instance, 
ungrudging praise. Mistakes were made, the most flagrant being the 
depositing of Mr. Grafly's Pioneer Mother stolidly in front of the main 
portal of the Palace of Fine Arts, but, on the whole, few exceptions can be taken 
to the general propriety of the scheme. The climax of this happy outdoor 
treatment was attained in Ralph Stackpole's Shrine of Inspiration, which rose 
upon a slight eminence in front of the rotunda. One saw in this compo- 
sition an inherently sculptural conception given the requisite poetic and 
imaginative significance through the unique lieauty of its entourage. 



[72] 




173] 




International Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Fra-ncisco 



Photograph by W. M. van der Weyde 



COUNT TOLSTOY 

BY PAUL TROUBETZKOY 



[75] 



SCULPTURE 




Panama- Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 

AQUATIC NYMPHS, COURT OF THE UNIVERSE 



BY LEO LENTELLI 



The development of American sculpture since the somewhat dim, inde- 
terminate days when Patience Wright, of Bordentown, first began modelling 
wax portraits and silhouettes of celebrities, local and national, is fraught with 
vicissitudes. Reference has already been made to the Canova-Thorvaldsen 
period, though it is doubtful whether this particular epoch was more inimical 
to taste than was the era of the monument manufacturers which followed the 
conclusion of the Civil War. We have sinned grievously in this latter regard. 
We have disfigured many a noble space and obstructed countless streets 
and public squares, yet we are somehow learning our lesson aright. At Phila- 
delphia in 1876 sculpture was not identified with architecture. It was some- 
thing apart, isolated from the ensemble. At Chicago it was employed in 
festal fashion after the manner of the French. A still further advance was 
recorded at San Francisco. You were herewith not confronted with separate 
works the significance of which it was difficult, if not impossible, to decipher. 

[77] 



IMPRESSIONS 



The aim was to fuse all the arts into a single eloquent, unified, impres- 
sion. And while the possibilities of plastic form were not so keenly 
realized or so consistently applied as were those of colour, a distinct improve- 
ment was made upon anything of the sort hitherto attempted on so 
ambitious a scale. 

We shall not linger to review in detail the miscellaneous assortments of 
native sculpture which were immured in the Palace of Fine Arts. Much of this 
work being already well known, we shall proceed to a consideration of the 
various foreign sections, for, after all, it is not specific issues, but general out- 
lines, which we aim to trace in these brief sketches. Many of the principal 
nations represented in the Palace of Fine Arts also possessed separate pavilions 
of their own, in the embellishment of which sculpture played an appropriate 
part. The most elaborate of these structures was that of Italy, and it was also 
the most traditional. No fresh problems were entailed in the construction of 
this Renaissance palace or the disposal of the numerous statues, ornamental 
groups, carved seats, etc., in the courts and corridors of this imposing pile. 
It was the treasury of the past that was alone drawn upon, so in order to 
see what contemporary Italian sculptors were accomplishing, it was neces- 
sary to return to the Fine Arts Palace. 

The sculpture of Italy, like that of other European countries, to-day ex- 
emplifies two distinct tendencies. The one instances that inversion to archaic 
tradition which finds its most acute manifestation in the work of certain of 
the younger French artists and their transalpine imitators. The other 
illustrates that return to the freedom of Renaissance ideals which attains its 
supreme expression with such masters as Auguste Rodin and Leonardo 
Bistolfi. Thus far the Italians have not achieved anything of moment in 
the former category. It is Bistolfi and his followers who are producing the 
noblest work of contemporary Italj', for they have rejected an effete Greco- 
Roman heritage and turned, like Rodin, to fresher sources of feeling and in- 
spiration. Owing to the regrettable absence of Bistolfi, the sculpture in the 
Italian Section at the Panama-Pacific Exposition lost not a little significance. 
A certain florid elegance characterized Arturo Dazzi's Portrait of a Lady. 
Giovanni Nicolini showed power and mastery of design, and in Ermenegildo 
Luppi's Grandmother's Idol one noted a suggestion of the nervous modelling 
and direct, graphic method so brilliantly employed by Prince Paul Troubetzkoy. 
There was, however, little else of importance. ^Yhile the contributions of 



[78] 




Italian Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



GRANDMOTHER'S IDOL 
BY ERMENEGILDO LUPPI 



[79] 



IMPRESSIONS 



Professor Ferrari commanded attention, and The Kiss, Michelo \'edani, paid 
eloquent tribute to Rodin, one was not inspired bj^ the balance of the offering. 
Considering their rich endowment and incomparable background the latter-day 
Italians scarcely occupy the position they should in modern sculpture. They 
have not succeeded in escaping the influence of a certain decadent formalism 
which seems to destroy individual effort and initiative. 

Like that of Italy, the sculpture contributed by France to the Panama- 
Pacific Exposition was on view partly in the national Pavilion, and partly in 
the Palace of Fine Arts. The exalted names such as Rodin, Bartholome, Bour- 
delle, Dalou, Mercie, and the like were nearly all represented by one or more 
subjects. One missed, it is true, Falguiei'e, who oddly enough, figured in the 
painting section only. One also deplored the absence of Maillol, Init, taken 
together, the display evinced variety and interest. Special prominence was 
by the way accorded the medallic art, a department in which the French 
have attained unique distinction. 

It might well have been inferred that the master modeller of Meudon would 
triumph over his colleagues in any collection of contemporary French, or 
other sculpture, and such was the case at San Francisco. In the spacious 
courtyard of the Pavilion sat the Penseur brooding and stressful. Within 
was a series of portrait busts which, in the final analysis, will doubtless consti- 
tute Rodin's chief title to immortality. The general average of merit was 
above that of Italy. There was less perfunctory work, and distinct significance 
attached to such essays in simplified form as Joseph Bernard's Young Woman 
with a Water Jar and Rene Quillivic's The Foot Bath. In these figures, both 
of which reveal obvious sympathy with the modern archaistic spirit, we 
note a legitimate indebtedness to Aristide Maillol. It is quite frankly a wel- 
come tendency, and one which, if it does not relapse into mere mannerism, 
should produce valuable results. 

Had you pursued the impressionistic rather than the scholastic method 
and passed with not too rigid scrutiny through the remaining galleries you 
would have come upon certain works of more than common interest. In 
the Swedish Section the powerful and broadly monumental conceptions of 
David Ldstrom dominated all others. Most modern sculpture is fictile, that 
of Edstrom is glyptic. He gets his effects from the hardest granite, not the 
ready tractability of clay. The display of sculpture in the Netherlands Section, 
while not otherwise important, was notable through the inclusion of three 



[80] 




French Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



THE FOOT BATH 
BY RENE QUILLIVIC 



[81] 



SCULPTURE 



objects by Charles van Wyk, a young artist who possesses something of 
Meunier's vigour of handhng and deep sympathy for the downtrodden. 
The generous representation accorded Hans St. Lerche, and the decorative 
panels by Dagfin Werenskiold, were the features of the Norwegian exhibit, 
while the chief points of attraction in the Argentine room were the work of 
Juan Carlos Oliva Navarro and Alberto Lagos. And, finally. Prince Trou- 
betzkoy, fluent and spirited as ever, furnished the requisite flavour of cos- 
mopolitanism to the International Section. 

You will presumably have noted in the sculpture as seen at the Panama- 
Pacific Exposition not a few encouraging signs. The endeavour to escape from 
a fatal fixity of type, the attempt to attain a more personal expression, and the 
realization that sculpture must not stand alone in sterile, melancholy isola- 
tion are welcome tendencies. We can never, and we should never, aim to 
recapture the antique spirit. If sculpture is to survive, it must be brought 
into closer accord with contemporary feelings and ideas. The desire, and 
the power, to see objects plastically should be more consciously cultivated, for 
to this craving sculpture will surely not fail to respond. It was thus when 
the human form first emerged from the vase of potter, and the relief evolved 
from rude hieroglyph, and thus it is to-day. 




Swedish Section, Panama-Pacific 
Exposition, San Francisco 

SPHINX BY DAVID EDSTROM 

[83] 



AMERICAN PAINTING 




American Sfirtinn, Panama- Pacific Expo.'^itt'nn. San Francisco 



TORSO 

BY ARTHUR B. CARLES 



[86] 



AMERICAN PAINTING 



PICTURE a colonnade over a thousand feet in length sweeping ma- 
jestically around the tree-lined marge of a gleaming lagoon, with, 
behind the colonnade, a vast, crescent-shaped structure containing 
a hundred or more separate rooms, and you have some idea of the 
Palace of Fine Arts at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. Viewed from the 
opposite side of the lagoon, the rotunda fronting the encircling columns re- 
called, in its deeply romantic suggestion, Bticklin's Island of the Dead. The 
sense of antiquity was there, the silence, the remoteness from the world of 
actuality, and the summons to a realm where one surrenders to the magic of a 
mysterious, indefinable beauty. Such was the appeal exercised by this 
memorable fusion of elements traditional, natural, and frankly inspirational. 
The Palace of Fine Arts seemed indeed an island set amid a shimmering sea 
of colour, a haven where the spirit sought grateful repose. This island was 
not however Die Toteninsel of Teutonic imagination, nor was it the Cythere of 
more ingratiating Gallic fancy. If it was impossible to repress a feeling of 
exaltation as you approached this building which, on the outside, promised so 
much, it was equally difficult to dispel a sense of disillusion on examining its 
contents as a whole. In the rooms devoted to American painting classic 
calm and romantic reverie gave place, despite belated attempts at rehabilita- 
tion, to something closely resembling confused incompletion. While there 
were certain sequestered spots where beauty was successfully wooed and won, 
the combined impression was far from inspiring. We all realized that there 
were mitigating circumstances, that it was difficult to assemble an exhibition 
of pictures during a world crisis, not to say cataclysm, yet nevertheless such 
restrictions did not apply so rigorously to the American section. Moreover, 
in general arrangement and not infrequently in questions of specific choice, 
the native display proved inferior to many of the foreign rooms. The 

[87] 



IMPRESSIONS 



average of merit attained by Sweden, for example, and the installation of the 
Swedish, Dutch, and Italian exhibits were notable instances of what, despite 
unpropitious conditions, the Europeans were able to accomplish. Even a 
casual stroll through the galleries was sufficient to convince one that in the 
matter of ambitious international art exhibitions we are moving consistently 
backward. The World's Columbian Exposition at Chicago in 1893 was 
superior to the Louisiana Purchase Exposition at St. Louis in 1904, which, 
in turn, was manifestly better than the recent Panama-Pacific. 

It is doubtless ungracious to possess a somewhat extensive perspective, 
or to recall with vivid freshness how paintings are displaj'ed at the Grosse 
Berliner, the Secession exhibitions of Berlin and Vienna, in the more char- 
acteristic capitals of Prague and Budapest, or in such cities as Stockholm, 
Diisseldorf, Dresden, Munich, and Venice. Modern pictorial emplacement 
originated in Brussels at the Libre esthetique, and from thence passed on 
to Austria and the rest of Europe. Though historically part of the decora- 
tive regeneration which derived from William Morris, neither the English 
nor the Americans grasped its significance, nor can they be said to do so to 
the present day. Quite obviously we Anglo-Saxons are a generation behind 
in such matters. Burlington House in London and the Vanderbilt Gallery 
in New York are annually the scene of the most antiquated hanging through- 
out the civilized world. A few institutions, such as the Brooklyn Museum, 
the Albright Gallery, Buffalo, the Carnegie Institute, Pittsburgh, and the 
Corcoran Gallery, Washington, have made measurable advances during the 
past few seasons, yet even so, the essential principles of appropriate instal- 
lation are with us but imperfectly appreciated and ineffectually practised. 

Assiduous amateurs of contemporary painting encountered little that 
was novel in the American section of this same classico-romantic Palace of 
Fine Arts. We shall not, at this date, attempt an inventory of the several 
rooms, but rather, if possible, summarize the salient features of the exhibition 
as a whole. The task is a simple one. It is primarily a question as to whether 
the general public did or did not leave the building having experienced 
that great aesthetic adventure so eagerly looked forward to. Did they 
discover something new, or was their customary attitude toward art merely 
amplified and diversified.^ In brief did tlie director in his selection and 
disposal of the thousands of works pictorial and plastic enforce, or did he 
enfeeble, the fine emotional fervour, the thrill of expectancy created by the 

architect? 

[88] 




American Section, Panajna- Pacific Exposition, San Francisco Courtesy of the Artist 



:mme. gautreau | 
by john s. sargent 



[89] 



AMERICAN PAINTING 




American Section, Panamu-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
THE COMING STORM 



Courtesy of The Lotos Club 
BY WINSLOW HOMER 



After an extended study of the public, as well as the paintings, one is face 
to face with the conclusion that there was something amiss with what may 
be generically termed the San Francisco system. Despite a presumable 
predisposition for the production of their countrymen and the personality 
of the various artists, our good people from West or East did not experience 
the requisite reaction from the American section. The reason is not far to 
seek. Whatever be the extenuating circumstances, and in every exhibition 
there are extenuating circumstances, the collective impression has proved 
inconclusive. Starting with the magnanimous, not to say merciful, assump- 
tion that all which met the eye was worthy of inclusion in such an exhibition, 
there was still much to be desired. The methods employed failed to disclose the 
decorative significance of a given canvas. We were shown what a picture was, 
but not what a picture was for. Suspended in dual, sometimes even triple, 
alignment, the effect was stupefying rather than stimulating. Save in a few 
instances the backgrounds were dull, grimy, and unprepossessing, and it was 
hence impossible for many of the works to appear to advantage. 

[91] 



IMPRESSIONS 



The situation would seem to resolve itself into a question of imperfect 
sympathy. A painting either is or is not an expression of creative emo- 
tion, something into which the artist has put his version of the visible world 
or his vague aspiration toward that great, beckoning beauty which is the 
heritage of all people in all ages. To distribute canvases about the walls 
like so many unrelated specimens is not to accord painting its requisite spir- 
itual or social, not to speak of aesthetic, consideration. It is true that the 
practice is a venerable one, yet it is also true that it is being modified and 
rectified in virtually every country from Scandinavia to South America. There 
seems, however, a certain fatalitj^ attached to us when we appear beside 
the foreigners on the occasion of important international exhibitions. One 
recalls with pathos the moribund American room at the Venice Exposition of 
1909, and the more pretentious fiasco at the Roman Esposizione Internazionale 
two years later. We do not realize the importance of proper spacing or 
proper setting for our vast and varied j^ictorial output. Our exposition and 
museum directors are doing little along these lines to bridge the ever-widen- 
ing abyss between the producing artist and the aspiring public. They con- 
tinue to employ methods that are obsolete. They fail, above all, to appre- 
ciate the fundamental affinity between beauty and utility. 

As may be inferred from the foregoing, the best features of the American 
section were to be found not in the galleries devoted to miscellaneous work, 
but in those dedicated to individual masters, of which there were, fortunately, 
not a few. Of the deceased painters, separate rooms or walls were 
allotted to Whistler, Edwin A. Abbey, Winslow Homer, John La Farge, 
Theodore Robinson, John H. Twachtman and others, while prominent 
among the living thus to be honoured were Frank Duveneck, Gari Melchers, 
William M. Chase, John S. Sargent, J. Alden Weir, Edmund C. Tarbell, 
Childe Hassam, and Edward W. Redfield. The insubstantial art of Whistler, 
so exacting, so persistent in its search for preciosity, was seen to special advan- 
tage in the full-length likeness of JNIrs. Huth and a series of i)anels from the 
collection of Charles L. Freer, Esq. The room was small, and, with the excep- 
tion of the portrait already mentioned, the subjects were restricted in size. 
The effect was none the less one of manifest propriety. It was a secluded 
little sanctuary to taste, a corner where one could commune with a frail 
though ardent spirit, one whose legacy' to posterity is slender, yet imperishable. 

We shall not attempt to characterize each of the above artists. Abbey, 
who never found paint a congenial or spontaneous medium, and La Farge, 



[92] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



Courtesy of the estate of Mrs. E. M. Cobden. 



NOTE BLANCHE: STUDY OF JO 

BY JAMES McNeill whistler 



[93] 



AMERICAN PAINTING 




American Section, Panama-Parifir Expo^ilu 
SUMMER 



. Son Francisco 



BY FREDERIC C. FRIESEKE 



who ranks at best as a studious, eclectic amateur, call for scant comment. 
The robust naturalism of Winslow Homer was but insufficiently indicated, 
though one had, in compensation, a serene, clear-toned wall from which 
shone the radiant masterpieces of Theodore Robinson. The pioneer Ameri- 
can impressionist painted modest themes — bits of winding canal, glimpses of 
white cottage nestled against green hillside, peasant girls musing under spread- 
ing apple bough or stretched prone upon the grass. There was no pose, no 
hint of pretence here. Robinson went to the heart of the scene, however 
simple and unambitious it may have seemed. Out of little he made much. 
He painted hght, air, and colour. The purest lyric talent we have thus far 
produced, he sang a song steeped in outdoor brightness and objective tran- 
quillity. Starting from a somewhat similar point of view, that which, in 
Robinson, remained analysis, became with Twachtman a species of creative 
synthesis. His opalescent panels are veritable improvisations wherein the 
essentials of impressionism have been superseded by a subtle abstraction 
frankly suggestive of the Japanese. Both men died in the fullness of attain- 

[95 1 



IMPRESSIONS 



ment, and you have merely to survey the walls of any current exhihition in 
order to realize how sadly we miss certain elements of taste, sensibility, and 
aesthetic integrity which were the touchstones of these two brief but signi- 
ficant careers. 

There can be nothing invidious in the contention that the chief success 
among living American painters represented at San Francisco was 
achieved by Frank Duveneck. Though reminiscent of the Munich Academy 
manner and the murky tonality of Piloty and the Italo-Bavarians of some 
four decades ago, Mr. Duveneck's work is by no means devoid of personality. 
You will doubtless recall Leibl in confronting certain of his portraits. You 
may here and there encounter echoes of von Lenbach or the sumptuous 
Venetians, yet always you will meet the eye and hand, the mind and mani- 
pulative mastery of Duveneck himself. As far as the general public is con- 
cerned, and the public is, alas, seldom recognizant in such cases, Frank 
Duveneck has of late years been merely a respected and honoured memory. 
The San Francisco exhibition served to rehabilitate his name and ensure for 
him that position in the development of American painting which he so 
rightfullv merits. 




IN THE SUN 



Courtesy of Samuel T. Shaw, Esq. 
BY THEODORE ROBINSON 



[96] 



AMERICAN PAINTING 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
POPPIES 



BY ROBERT W. VOXNOH 



While adequately presented, less interest attached to the work of our 
periodic prize winners than to certain more progressive talents. In the com- 
pany of such men as Tarbell, Hassam, Metcalf, and Redfield, one experiences 
a sense of quotidian familiarity. They are specialists, and may always be 
counted upon to maintain prescribed standards. Their production re- 
veals few departures and no surprises. It is consequently to the younger 
element that we must turn in order to gather a less perfunctory impression 
of contemporary painting, and in this connexion may be cited the names 
of Frederic C. Frieseke, Hayley Lever, Jonas Lie, Walter GrifBn, George W. 
Bellows, and Arthur B. Carles. Mr. Frieseke proved the official as well 
as popular success of the exhibition. By no means profound, or divulging 
any disquieting depth of feeling, his canvases are nevertheless captivating 
in their sheer, bright-toned beauty, their luminous iridescence, whether 
of boudoir or sun-flecked river bank. In Mr. Lever we discern a more sub- 
stantial achievement, and note a special gift for colour draughtsmanship and 
a sense of rhythm as rare as it is welcome. 

There can be no doubt but that the complexion of current art is fast 
changing. To these changes the public is rapidly becoming accustomed, more 
rapidly perhaps than exposition promoters and museum officials realize. 

[97] 



IMPRESSIONS 



We are casting off our congenital conservatism and dependence. The Fon- 
tainebleau-Barbizon tradition which so long darkened and sentimentalized 
native landscape, and the aesthetic anaemia that emanated from the delicate 
organism of Whistler, have been succeeded by fresher, more invigorating 
tendencies. While one cannot describe the paintings at the Panama-Pacific 
Exposition as being in any degree radical or modernistic, still they were suffi- 
ciently indicative of the fact that art in America is progressing along normal, 
wholesome lines. Cubism, Futurism, Orphism, and the like were ex- 
cluded from the native section. You did not encounter upon the walls of 
the Palace of Fine Arts any third, or fourth, dimensional experiments. There 
were it is true a few arsenical nudes in evidence, yet as a rule there was 
nothing that could perturb the cautious or timorous. 

We appear, on the whole, to display less fervour and less creative fecundity 
than do our foreign colleagues. The sense of style is with us not so promi- 
nently developed, nor do we seem so individual in our general outlook. Such 
considerations are not superficial. They are fundamental. Our art begins 
at the. top instead of surging irresistibly up from the wellsprings of nature and 
character. We betray the effects of an imperfectly established social equi- 
librium. We lack on one hand the sturdy substratum of peasant endeavour 
which the Europeans so abundantly possess, and, on the other, that central 
authority which must always constitute the final court of appeal. While, as 
was so eloquently demonstrated at San Francisco, we have accomplished 
memorable things in architecture, sculpture, and painting, we must not be 
misled by mere exposition enthusiasm into believing that the prize of beauty 
has been, or can ever be, definitively captured. 

And as you lingered outside the galleries in the fading light, with the stars 
mirrored in the surface of the pool, and the swans gliding silently about, you 
doubtless thought less of Cythere than of Die Toteninsel. The dream of a 
splendid exhibition of contemporary painting, of something uniquely educa- 
tional and uniquely inspirational, had meanwhile vanished. The architect, 
with the perspective of the ages behind him, succeeded, in his visible suggestion 
of human aspiration and human futility, in giving us something more subtle 
than that vouchsafed by the art director. The one was a prophecy, the 
other merely a promise. 



[98] 




American Section, Panama- Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



Courtesy of the Cincinnati Museum Association. 



WHISTLING BOY 

BY FRANK DUVENECK 



[99] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



Courtesy of Louis B. McCagg, Esq. 



SPANISH COURTYARD 
BY JOHN S. SARGENT 



[101] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
Copyright, The Detroit Publishing Co. 



Courtesy of James Deering, Esq. 



MOTHER AND CHILD 
BY GARI MELCHERS 



[103] 




[ 105 ] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition ^ San Francisco 



PORTRAIT 

BY CECILIA BEAUX 



[107] 




American Sectio7i, Panama- Pacific Exposition, San Fra. 



THE ICE STORM 
BY ALLEN TUCKER 



[109] 




[Ill] 




i Section, Panama- Pacijic Exposition, San Francisco 



ST. IVES FISHING BOATS 
BY HAYLEY LEVER 



[113] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, Sa?i Francisco 



MOTHER AND CHILD 

BY JOHN H. TWACHTMAN 



[115] 




[117] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



OCTOBER MORNING 
BY BEN FOSTER 



[119] 





V ■!»;^&.. 


-^^. ■':^ .v^^^S^i^i^^^^^^K 1 


It: 


■ i>^?^ 












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H 
fin 

o 

Q 

a 



[121 




American Section, Panama- Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



THE EMERALD ROBE 
BY ROBERT H. NISBET 



[123] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



YOUTH 

BY JOSEPHINE PADDOCK 



[125] 




[127] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition^ San Francisco 



MY FAMILY 

BY EDMUND C. TARBELL 



[129] 




[131] 




American Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



TANGIER 

BY ALEXANDER ROBINSON 



[133] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 
PART ONE 




Italian Section^ Pa m mm- Pacific ExiK-isition. San Francisco 



THE GREEN SHAWL 

BY CAMILLO INNOCENTI 



[136] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 

PART ONE 



DESPITE the petulant pronouncement of Whistler that art knows 
no country, it becomes increasingly apparent that the element of 
nationality is the most potent of all aesthetic characteristics. The 
butterfly conception of beauty, while an effective weapon when 
employed against the Philistine, fails to enlist the sympathies or augment 
the sum of knowledge. It is through studying the art of other lands that we 
can alone glean an accurate impression of our own, and this is not the least 
reason why we should extend generous welcome to the stranger. In the 
ensuing survey of foreign art at the Panama-Pacific Exposition special consid- 
eration will be accorded only those countries which were officially represented. 
Though there were numerous isolated canvases in the International Section 
that might otherwise invite comment, we shall confine our attention to nations 
rather than to individuals. 

As the first country to respond to the appeal of popular life and shake off 
the sterihzing formalism of Church and Court, Holland claims a leading 
place in the history of modern painting. It matters little that there was a 
dreary, barren hiatus following the death of Ruisdael, Hobbema, and Pieter 
de Hooch. The sturdy Dutch were simply biding their time, and when, under 
the inspiration of the French romantic movement of 1830, attention was 
again directed to native theme, they readily reconquered their lost prestige. 
The chief names in this renaissance of the art of the Netherlands are Bos- 
boom, Israels, Mauve, Weissenbruch, and the brothers Maris. They it was 
who laid the foundations of the contemporary Dutch school. Through their 
sympathetic appreciation of nature and their power of synthetic presentation 
they re-affirmed the fundamental principles of their forbears. It is the men 
of the second generation such as Blommers, Breitner, Witsen, Gorter, Isaac 
Israels, and van Mastenbroek who figured most prominently at San 

[137] 



IMPRESSIONS 



Francisco, and it may be asserted without hesitation that they preserve intact 
the national artistic patrimony. 

Like their Fontainebleau-Barbizon predecessors the Dutchmen are by 
preference tonahsts. Their pictures are studies in atmospheric unity rather 
than specific transcriptions of Hne or form. Drifting in from the sea or rising 
from hish meadow and lazy canal is an all-pervading moisture, a difl'used, 
modified radiance that gives to the land and its art a characteristically persua- 
sive appeal. One and all these men are sincere, unaffected nature poets. 
No restless individualism disturbs their harmonious compositions. Repose, 
not revolution, is the sentiment they inspire. Whether treating broad, pano- 
ramic outdoor motive or modest cottage interior it is light, or rather tone, 
which remains the centre of interest. You will note this alike in the busy 
glimpses of Rotterdam harbour by van Mastenbroek, or the irregular spires 
and rambling house-fronts of Witsen. The same tendency is visible in the work 
of more advanced talents such as Hendrik Jan Wolter who, despite his free- 
dom of stroke and purity of colour, relies primarily upon the unifying 
possibilities of atmosphere. 

In surveying the spacious, well-appointed rooms devoted to Dutch art at 
San Francisco one was impressed by the sanity and balance that characterized 
the canvases as a whole. The themes were, as may be inferred, normal and 
unpretentious, the technique sound and devoid of eccentricity. A conspicu- 
ous measure of approval greeted the appearance of Breitner's simple and 
effective Amsterdam Timber Port, while Marius A. J. Bauer, with a small 
panel entitled Oriental Equestrian, and a series of dramatic fantasias in 
black and white, contributed his usual richly imaginative note. A less famil- 
iar figure was Mr. Willem Witsen, the Commissioner of Fine Arts, who, with 
his portraits in the Netherlands Pavilion, his two views of Amsterdam, ami 
his etchings, revealed himself the possessor of a definitely formulated artistic 
individuality. To a rare degree of objective verity Mr. Witsen adds a per- 
sonal subjectivity which, in its every manifestation, is instinct with poetic 
feeling. One can indeed but congratulate the Resident Commissioner-Gen- 
eral, the Honourable H. A. van Coenen Torchiana and his able staff" upon the 
success of the Netherlands Section. Conservative, and basing itself confidently 
upon the production of the past, contemporary Dutch art, in no sense radical 
or modernistic, illustrates the value of a consistentlv maintained tradition. 



[ 138 ] 




[139] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 




Swedish Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
WINTER IN THE FOREST 



BY ANSHELM SCHULTZBERG 



It was to the Frenchmen of a later date that the more eclectic Swedes 
turned for inspiration. The "phalanx of 1830" had already been superseded 
by grey-toned naturalist and sparkling luminist when Zorn, Ernst Josephson, 
Karl Nordstrom, Larsson, and Liljefors flocked to Northern France. They 
did not as a rule remain away long enough to lose sympathy with Scandin- 
avian type and scene. One by one they returned to fling defiance at the 
Academy and initiate one of the most vigorous and wholesome movements in 
the history of current art. Under the commanding influence of Nordstrom 
the Konstnarsforbundet became the most important organization of its kind 
in Sweden. And yet, while this particular society has at various periods 
included in its membership virtually all the leading artists, certain of the 
better men, restive under its restrictions, have from time to time broken away. 
It was from such independent spirits, as well as from other sources, that the 
Swedish Section at San Francisco was recruited. 

[141] 



IMPRESSIONS 



There is no gainsaj'ing the impression which the art of these virile, clear- 
eyed Northmen made upon the exposition public. Admirably arranged 
by the Swedish Commissioner of Fine Arts, Mr. Anshelm Schultzberg, who 
here duplicated his successes at St. Louis and at Rome, the several galleries 
reflected that breadth of comprehension without which painting remains a mere 
dilettante diversion. The Fjaestad room with its hand-carved furniture, 
tapestries, and amply spaced canvases offered an object lesson which local 
museum and exhibition officials should take seriously to heart. This artist, 
whose work is at once stylistic and naturalistic, who is a marvellous observer 
and a master of decorative design, proved one of the outstanding features of 
the exposition. An older and better-known man who was likewise accorded 
collective representation was the animal painter, Bruno Liljefors, while the 
landscapes contributed by the Commissioner himself proved that, despite 
official duties, he is more than maintaining his position as a sympathetic and 
veracious interpreter of forest stillness and snow-clad hillside. 

While it was difficult, from so well balanced an ensemble, to detach speci- 
fic individuals, it was impossible to overlook the work of two young and less 
widely known men, namely, Gabriel Strandberg and Helmer Osslund. The 
former selects his types from the poorer quarters of Stockholm and portrays 
them with luminous stroke and penetrative intuition. The latter finds his 
inspiration in North Sweden, where he records the clear colour, sharply 
silhouetted forms, and mighty rhythm of seemingly illimitable stretches of 
mountain and sky. You instantly discern in the work of the Swedes — in the 
bold Lofoten Island sketches of Anna Boberg or the delicate panels of Oskar 
Bergman — a frankness of vision and directness of presentation as rare as 
they are stimulating. Unfatigued and lacking in sophistication, the art of 
Sweden derives its strength from the silent, persistent community between 
nature and man. The elements are few, but they are all-sufficient. 

A less uniform development and a more truculent physiognomy mark the 
artistic production of latter-day Norway. Trained for the most part in 
Germany, the leaders, such as Christian Krohg and Edvard Munch, are tur- 
bulent and stressful in their outlook upon nature and character. Both dom- 
inant personalities, the rugged naturalism of Krohg becomes with Munch a 
species of restless, haunting evocation, now sensuous, now psychic in appeal. 
It was these men, together with numerous recruits from the ranks of the new 



ri42i 




Swedish Section, Pnnnma-Facijlc Exposition, San Francisco 



[143] 



THE CRIPPLE 

BY GABRIEL STRANDBERG 



FOREIGN PAINTING 




Hungarian Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
LOXGCHAMPS 



BY BATTHYAXYI GYULA 



school, who constituted the exhibition collected by Director Jens Thiis for the 
delectation of San Francisco. Lacking in homogeneity, though not in interest, 
the display ran the gamut from tentative essays in impressionism by CoUett 
and Thaulow to the invigorating chromatic experiments of Henrik Lund and 
Pola Gauguin. 

Save at Cologne, Berlin, and Vienna, where they have appeared with un- 
questioned success, the work of the more advanced men has not proved sym- 
pathetic to the general public. While it is impossible to deny the dynamic 
power and fundamental pictorial endowment which these compositions reflect 
they not infrequently reveal a certain want of sensitiveness. More talented 
than their neighbours, the Norwegians are lacking in discipline. If the art 
of Sweden is a clearly formulated and in a measure collective expression, that 
of Norway remains defiantly individual. A stormy instability of temper 

[145] 



IMPRESSIONS 



combined with the lack of a central tradition, has thus far prevented these 
men from assuming- their rightful position in the province of contemporary 
painting or sculpture. 

Although not represented in the Palace of Fine Arts, or its precipitately 
constructed Annex, the Danish Government contributed several canvases 
toward the enhancement of the official Pavilion, ^'iewed at leisure in spa- 
cious, homelike reception suites, these few subjects, all of which were from the 
Royal Gallery in Copenhagen, conveyed an agreeable impression of the essential 
characteristics of Danish art. The painters included H. and W. Hammer, 
Exner, Roed, Ottesen, Hansen, Balsgaard, Kyhn, Petersen, and Christensen. 
They belong to the epoch before Kroyer carried northward the gospel of light 
and air, and before Willumsen stirred his countrymen to fury with the premon- 
itions of Post-Impressionism. It was not'Trie Udstilling" art that greeted 
you from figured wall and looked down upon flower-set table. 

Face to face with these simple, engaging bits of still-life, or glimpses of sunlit 
river and ripening grain field, one experienced a feeling of peace and repose. 
Here passed a peasant workman with a cheery "God Aften" to the landed pro- 
prietor and his wife. There sat a stolid market woman from Amager counting 
her hard-earned coppers. The feverish scramble for sensation, the shuffle of a 
thousand anxious feet, the crudity and confusion of the Palace of Fine Arts 
with its heterogeneous contents vanished like a nightmare amid the soothing 
propriety of these discreetly appointed rooms. In their C|uiet, unpretentious 
way the Danes appear to have somewhat the better of the argument. They 
have not lost sight of the true function of oil painting, which, be it intimated, 
is appropriately to embellish a given wall space. Their conception of life is 
modest and measured, and this attitude is eloquently reflected in their art. 

It is not difficult to divine why these particular subjects should have been 
sent to America. One can readily picture the mellow, erudite Director ^Nlad- 
sen sauntering through the Kunstmusaeum and selecting them deliberately, 
one by one, each designed to convey its special message of beauty and benignity 
to a restless, transatlantic world. ^Yhile it is to be regretted that he did not 
include a few examples by Kobke and iNIarstrand, this woidd have been asking 
too much of such a savant and solicitous custodian. 

Although it seems a far cry from the art of the Northern countries to that 
of Hungary, the passage may be made by way of Finland, for the Finns and 
Hungarians are allied lioth ethnicallv and aestheticallv. There having been 



[146] 




Norwegian Section, Panama- Pacific Exposition, San Fraficisco 



From the Shulz C'l'llertiun 



SUMMER NIGHT: AASGAARDSTRAND 
BY ED\ ARD MUNCH 



[147] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 



.#^ij^^ ^ 




■^" 


i 


— r,;^>^-- - tgJBK^ 


#g^%; ^ ^ 


m 




M^Mi^',. .. Sji 









Hungarian Section, Panama-Pacific Erposition, San Francisco 
COUNTESS BATTHYANYI LAJOS 



BY VASZARY JANOS 



however but a single Finnish artist, Axel Gallen-Kallela, on view at San Fran- 
cisco, we shall proceed to a consideration of the work of the music- and colour- 
loving Magyars. The art of Hungary is before else a typically rhapsodic 
expression. You feel in it a marked degree of rhythm and a rich, vibrant 
harmony rarely if ever encountered elsewhere. There has thus far been in the 
Land of the Four Rivers and the Three Mountains no visible divorce between 
beauty and utility. The painter's attitude toward his profession, while more 
conscious, resembles that of the peasant toward the simpler tasks of eye and 
hand. In each you meet the same deep-rooted race spirit, the same love 
of vivid chromatic effect, the same fervid lyric passion. 

Hungarian painting in the modern signification of the term dates from the 
early pleinair canvases of the pioneer impressionist, Szinyei Merse Pal, who, 
at the Munich exhibition of 1869, first came in contact with the epoch-making 

[149] 



I M P R E S S I ON S 



Frenchmen. And yet wliile Majalis, just as Manet's Le Dejeunei" sur 
I'herbe, marks the dividing line between the old and tlie new, it was not until 
1896 when Hollosy Simon moved his classes from the Bavarian capital to 
Nagybanya, that the tendency assumed definite shape. The work of Hollosy 
is to-day being continued by Ferenczy Karoly, while at Kecskemet we have 
Ivanyi Bela, and at Szolnok, on the banks of the Tisza, is Fenyes Adolf and 
another flourishing colony. Everywhere throughout Hungary you will note 
a similar return to the salutary fecunditj' of native scene and national inspira- 
tion. The movement is best typified in the most talented personality of all, 
Rippl-Ronai Jozsef who, after years of Paris artist life, is now serenely se- 
questered at his birthplace, Kaposvar, producing the best work of his career. 
Although independent of temper, it is necessarj' for such men to exhibit in a 
body, their memorable debut of 1897 having been followed a decade later by 
the formation of the Circle of Magyar Impressionists and Naturalists, cur- 
rently known as the " ^I. I. E. N. K." A still more recent group is the Nyolczak 
or Eight, whose aims and ideas are patently expressionistic. 

It is these tendencies which, be it confessed, were somewhat inettectually 
elucidated at San Francisco. The manifest intention was to have oft'ered 
a more or less inclusive survey of contemporary Hungarian artistic activity, 
yet for one reason or another this was scarcely achieved. The group of 
sketches by Rippl-Ronai did not fail to disappoint those already familiar with 
this brilliant creative colourist's achievement. Csok Istvan fared somewhat 
better, but one missed Reti Istvan, Perlmutter Izsak, Czobel Bela, and other 
names of kindred importance. Reth, Kesmarky, Korody, Csaky, and numer- 
ous talented young radicals whose work is as well known in Berlin and Paris 
as it is in Budapest, were also absent. The physiognomy of current Hun- 
garian painting as presented at the Panama-Pacific Exposition was in short 
varied but incomplete. The public was hardly able to divine from this par- 
ticular offering the true significance of modern ^Magyar art. That fruitful 
movement which, on the one hand, aims to preserve unspoiled the eloquent 
peasant heritage and, on the other, to foster an equally national though more 
comprehensive development was not clearly indicated. A more serious study of 
racial characteristics and a less spasmodic choice are necessary in order to 
convey a convincing sense of aesthetic aspiration and attainment. 



[150] 




Hungarian Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Fr- 



HUNGARIAN HOME ALTAR 
BY JAVOR PAL 



[151] 




[153] 







1-3 

P3 



[155] 




[15Z] 




International Section, Panama- Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



THE SHORE 
BY LEO PUTZ 



[159] 




161 ] 




O 



o 

1-3 



o 
H Pi 

hH p3 



[163] 




International Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
Copyright, Franz Hanfstaengl, Milnchen 



SUMMER NIGHT 

BY FRANZ VON STUCK 



[165] 




[167] 




[169] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 
PART TWO 




Italian Serlion, P iwimi- Pacific Exposition, Sati Francisco 



Court<~v of Mr. Nicoln Ronfilio 



THE PROCESSION 
BY ETTORE TITO 



[1721] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 

PART TWO 



IF it was the Dutchmen of the seventeenth century who freed painting 
from influences that were monastic and monarchical, it was the French- 
men of the nineteenth who initiated what may be described as the modern 
movement. For those who confess to a passion for precision, it is well 
to recall 1870 as the date which marks the starting point of the contemporary 
school. It was in the spring of this year, when visiting his friend de Nittis 
in the environs of Paris, that Manet painted the luminous, fresh-toned canvas 
entitled The Garden, disclosing a delightful family group seen in the open 
under the spreading trees. Following the war, French art evinced renewed 
vigour, the Impressionists, after an arduous struggle, finally succeeding in 
demonstrating to a recalcitrant public the fluid beauty of atmosphere and the 
charm of simple, everyday scene. On all sides there was a spontaneous 
return to life, nor was this tendency without perceptible influence upon the 
painting of the day. It is this re-affirmation of the fundamental race spirit 
which those who organized the French Section at San Francisco endeavoured 
to illustrate. The display showed on one hand what France, despite 
defeat, was able to accomplish, and on the other that which she is now, in the 
fullness of her power, currently achieving. 

You could not stroll through the Retrospective Exhibition, which was 
housed in the imposing French Pavilion, without having acutely revived certain 
early, unforgettable memories. Here was Manet's BalconJ^ showing Mile. 
Berthe Morisot, the painter Guillemet, and their companion grouped behind the 
familiar pale green grating. There was Besnard's Portrait of Alphonse Legros, 
while a few paces farther along Carriere's Christ peered out of a vague, 
poignant, spirit kingdom. Puvis was there, and so were Degas, Fantin-Latour, 
Renoir, Cazin, and the sumptuous and hieratic Gustave Moreau. Certain 
of the more radical figures, including Cezanne, Gauguin, and Toulouse- 

[ 173 ] 



IMPRESSIONS 



Lautrec were also on view, though, alas, but meagrelj^ presented. The atmos- 
phere of the Luxembourg was in brief transported to San Francisco with 
the coming of these canvases which, in a sense, constitute tlie vanguard of 
modernism. It was a notable collection, and while as a rule the best examples 
by the various artists were not in evidence, yet enough remained to convey 
the essential message of the men selected. 

If the galleries in the Pavilion constituted a species of miniature Luxem- 
bourg, those devoted to French painting in the Palace of Fine Arts offered 
a judicious resume of recent Salon activity. Designed to include work done 
during the past five years, one noted with pleasure subjects by Besnard, 
Blanche, Cottet, Dauchez, Le Sidaner, Roll, and Simon as well as a few by 
such relatively advanced spirits as Maurice Denis, Signac, and Vallotton. 
A scrupulously sustained eclecticism distinguished the offering as a whole. It 
was patently, indeed almost painfully, apparent that an attempt had been made 
to reconcile all differences, to fuse all factions into approved official concord. 
The result, as may he anticipated, was unconvincing, for in like circumstances 
conventionality invariably triumphs. Those already familiar with contem- 
porary French painting experienced scant difficulty in arriving at their 
respective conclusions. They knew what to accept and what to condone. 
With the general public, matters were more complicated. The art of France is 
nevertheless sufficiently diverse to satisfy all demands. It presents a mixture 
of academic routine and seemingly rampant radicalism. So great is the 
productivity of this marvellous people that every conceivable artistic mani- 
festation finds place upon exhibition wall. The most antithetical tendencies 
flourish side by side and appear to attract an equally numerous and ardent 
following. 

And still, despite its baffling complexity, French art remains inherently 
sane, balanced, and logical. Beneath each apparent eccentricity lurks an 
intellectual integrity that sooner or later discloses itself to view. And in 
every Frenchman may be found a substratum of classicism the function of 
which seems to be the constant simplification of form and clarification of feel- 
ing. It is some such impression that one could gather from a study of the 
French Section at San Francisco. While not particularly stimulating, the 
ensemble served its purpose sufficiently well. To have demanded more in 
these tumultuous times would indeed have been ungracious. 



[174] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 







Ji 




■1 


^ 




1 











French Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition^ San Francisco 
THE PAINTERS 



BY FELIX VALLOTTOxN 



Though the Frenchmen have for close upon a century furnished the most 
potent impetus known to the artistic world it is only recently that the Italians 
may be said to have come into their own. The foremost figures in the develop- 
ment of latter-day Italian painting are Domenico Morelli and Giovanni 
Segantini, the one a fervid naturalist, the other the founder of the Divisionist 
School. It is unnecessary here to discuss the career of the ardent Neapolitan 
who passed from the pose of romanticism into the pure light of day, or to 
detail the heroic life struggle of the painter of Alpine scene who became one 
of the incontestable masters of the closing years of the last century. Though 
neither Morelli nor Segantini was represented in the Palace of Fine Arts, we 
had, in partial compensation, an interesting group of men mainly from Rome 
with a casual sprinkling of Venetians. 

Conceived along the same conservative, not to say conventional, lines as 
the French Section, the Italians nevertheless appeared to better advantage, 

[ 175 ] 



IMPRESSIONS 



owing to the effectiveness of their installation. You here observed the influ- 
ence of Vienna, which came to us via Venice, for in these spacious, bright- 
toned galleries one almost fancied oneself at one of those admirable ex- 
positions in the Giardini Pubblici which have done so much to stinmlate 
Southern European taste. Prominent among the exhibitors at San Francisco 
was the amazing Mancini, who sent three pseudo portraits, surcharged with 
pigment and saturated with sheer Latin lusciousness of tone. The magician 
of the Via Margutta is indeed incomparable as ever, and cjuite obliterated his 
associates. The prismatic palette of Camillo Innocenti, which has acquired 
a certain Gallic grace, was seen to advantage in a quartette of canvases, the 
best of which was The Green Shawl which liy the by was the earliest in date. 
If Innocenti has become a modified, mundane impressionist, Ettore Tito 
remains a fluent exponent of genre and figure painting who likewise appeared 
to more purpose with an older work, The Procession, which carried one's 
memories back a full score of years to the Venice Exposition of 1895. 

A glance about the galleries was sufficient to disclose a number of excel- 
lent works, among which must be mentioned Giuseppe Mentessi's austere 
and imaginative fantasy entitled The Soul of the Stones, Emma Ciardi's 
The Avenue: Boboli Gardens, and two sensuous colour invocations by 
Enrico Lionne, designated respectively as Red Roses and The Return of 
Divine Love. The latter contributed the only modern note to a display 
the significance of w'hich would have been considerably augmented by a rea- 
sonable concession to more progressive taste. One regretted in particular the 
entire absence of the Divisionist School, already referred to, which owes its 
inception to Segantini and Previati. This group, which includes such un- 
questioned talents as Carlo Fornara, Cinotti, Ramponi, Zanon, and others, 
appeared with signal success at the Latin-British Exhibition at Shepherd's 
Bush three years ago. Their work is luminous and anti-academic, and no 
survey of contemporary Italian painting which does not accord them adequate 
consideration can claim completeness. 

Not the least disappointing feature of the Exposition was the lamentable 
absence of Spain, the one foreign country whose official participation would 
seem to have been essential to the undertaking. In defaidt of any sort of 
regular representation, a few sti-ay Spanish artists foimd their way to the 
Pacific Coast. Among these it mav not be amiss to record the names of 



[176] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 




French Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
HARBOUR OF ROTTERDAM 



BY ALBERT MARQUET 



Eliseo Meifren, Gonzalo Bilbao, and the brothers Zubiaurre, all of whom 
contributed work of varying merit. As it happened, however. Peninsular 
art was not entirely overlooked, for revolution-ridden little Portugal came 
gallantly to the rescue. The three leading Portuguese painters of the day, 
Columbano, Malhoa, and Selgado revealed themselves as able personalities. 
Columbano is a portraitist of the older persuasion, possessing a discern- 
ing grasp of character and a subdued, dignified sense of colour. One 
recalls Watts in confronting the serious, earnest physiognomies of his poets, 
players, and men of affairs, saving for the fact that the Englishman never 
drew or modelled with such suave surety. In Malhoa was disclosed the leading 
Portuguese painter of genre subject. Somewhat suggestive of the Valencian 
SoroUa, though without the latter's superlative dexterity, Malhoa achieves 
his best effects in such episodes as The Nightingale's Veranda, where his 
sympathy with native type and mastery of diffused light find congenial scope. 

[177] 



IMPRESSIONS 



With Selgado may be coupled his most successful pupil, Senhor Adriano de 
Sousa-Lopes, the Portuguese Commissioner of Fine Arts, whose facile brush 
and spontaneous love of colour have, despite his lack of years, won for him a 
distinguished position among the men of the younger generation. 

The manifest traditionalism that, at San Francisco at least, characterized 
the art of the foregoing nations, could scarcely have failed to repeat itself in 
the production of those countries which are in a measure directly dependent 
upon European inspiration. If it is difficult to discover much that is vigorous 
or individual in the work of North Americans, still more so is it hard to perceive 
originality and independence of temper among our neighbours farther south. 
As the most prosperous and progressive of the South American republics, the 
Argentine not unnaturally evinces keen interest in matters artistic. Princely 
private collectors such as the late Senor Jose Prudencio de Guerrico, Senor 
Santamarina, and Seiior Pellerano have done much toward familiarizing the 
public of Buenos Aires with the best contemporary European work. Regular 
and special exhibitions also contribute their share, yet the vital impulse must 
always come from the individual himself. The final result rests with the 
artist, and it is a pleasure to record that creative as well as cultural conditions 
in the Argentine show unmistakable promise. 

Just as France is the foster-mother and chief instructress of the painters 
and sculptors of North America, so Italy, and to a certain extent France also, 
act in similar capacity toward South American aspirants. The students from 
Argentina desirous of completing their training go by preference to Turin, 
Florence, Rome, or Paris. Whether in Italy or France they come under influ- 
ences more official than fecund, and this may be described as the cardinal 
defect of their production. They give us types from Tuscany or Brittany 
rather than racy and indigenous Argentinos. Thanks however to the recent 
revival of interest in what is currently known as "el arte nacional," such cos- 
mopolitan pretensions are being corrected, and interest is being concentrated 
upon themes which are native and local. In the work of Jorge Bermiidez, 
Pompeo Boggio, and the sculptor, Alberto Lagos, are welcome evidences that 
European predominance is on the wane. The landscape painters, too, notably 
Americo Panozzi and his colleagues, are disclosing undoubted personal charm 
and freshness of vision. 

And thus, while your initial impressions of the Argentine Section at San 
Francisco may have seemed disappointing, you would, upon closer inspection. 



[ 178 ] 




French Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



SEATED WO^MAN 

BY CHARLES COTTET 



[179] 



FOREIGN PAINTING 




Argentine Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 
THE YOUNG LANDLADY 



BY JORGE BERMUDEZ 



have found not a little to interest and admire. Artistically speaking, the 
Argentinos are awakening to their inherent possibilities. From the dean of the 
native school, Eduardo Sivori, to Antonio Alice, one of the youngest members 
of the group, the spirit seems encouraging and the desire to accomplish some- 
thing is increasingly manifest. A word of praise should in conclusion be 
accorded the installation of the exhibit in the Palace of Fine iVrts, Senor Oliva 
Navarro having achieved a most satisfactory result with the single room 
at his disposal. 

We shall not, in the present circumstances, consider the showing made by 
other Latin-American countries such as Uruguay, Cuba, and the Philippines. 
Isolated individuals, including the Uruguayan, Manuel Rose, and the Cuban, 
Leopoldo Romanach, may have risen above the level, yet the general average 

[ 181 ] 



IMPRESSIONS 



was wanting in both decision and distinction. It is furthermore not our in- 
tention to discuss the comprehensively organized exhibits of China and Japan, 
or the modernistic contents of the Annex. These informal impressions do 
not claim to be exhaustive, but merely to bring under closer scrutiny certain 
salient features of development. Surveying in kindly, equable perspective 
the undertaking as a whole, one can scarcely escape the conviction that its 
chief shortcoming proved a lack of coherence. This pageant of art, as it was 
christened by coastal panegyrists, while imposing, was lacking in simplicity. 
A less pretentious, and at the same time more concisely formulated programme, 
must assuredly have produced different results. Judged for example by the 
standard set biennially at Venice, we have not thus far solved the problem of 
assembling a satisfactory exhibition of international painting and sculpture. 
Choice should be more discriminating, and there must above all loom behind 
such a task some concrete, unifying idea. We do not desire to see, nor should 
we be subjected to, all art, but rather those manifestations of artistic activity 
which alone illustrate certain specific principles. It is not the spectacular, 
nor is it mere numerical strength, that we are seeking. It is that which is vi- 
tal, formative, and significant. 

While maintaining the approved critical balance, one must not however 
lose sight of the positive good accomplished by the Panama-Pacific Exposi- 
tion. Generally speaking the reaction has been satisfactory, and the response 
to the various aesthetic stimuli has proved frank, spontaneous, and un- 
prejudiced. The three successive cultural waves which swept across the 
country following the expositions at Philadelphia, Chicago, and St. Louis have 
finally overlapped the Rockies. Upon the Pacific slope the combined achieve- 
ments of Europe and America have met and mingled with the mellow legacy 
of Indian and Spaniard and the subtle magic of the Orient. Geographically 
speaking, the circle is complete. It merely remains to be seen how far this 
flood from the perennial fountain of beauty can permanently enrich a parched 
and aspiring community. 



[182] 





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Italian Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



THE BOHEMIAN 

BY ANTONIO MANCINI 



[183] 




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[ 185 ] 



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[187] 




French Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



THE COMMUNICANTS 
BY LUCIEN SIMON 



[189] 




[191] 




Uruguayan Section, Panama-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco 



INTERIOR OF CAFE 
BY MANUEL ROSE 



[193 1 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 

An English Decorator at the Fair. The Literary Digest, vol. L, p. 546-8. March 13, 

1915. 
An Exhibition Defeating Itself. The Literary Digest, vol. LI, p. 404-5. August 28, 1915. 
Art Exhibits at the Panama Exposition. The International Studio, vol. LIV, sup. 78. 

January, 1915. 
Art Lessons of the Exposition. The Nation, vol. CI, p. 86. July 15, 1915. — 
At the Panama-California Exposition at San Diego. The Scientific American, vol. 

CXIII, p. 40, July 10, 1915. 
Austin, Mary. Art Influence in the West. The Centcry, vol. LXXXIX, p. 829-33. 

April, 1915. 
Ayscough, Florence Wheelock. Catalogue of Chinese Paintings Exhibited at the 

China Pavilion, Panama-Pacific International Exposition, San Francisco. 

Barry, John D. In the Palace of Fine Arts and the French Pavilion. John J. New- 
begin, San Francisco, 1915. 

Barry, John D. The City of Domes. John J. Newbegin, San Francisco, 1915. 

Barry, John D. The Meaning of the Exposition. San Francisco, 1915. 

Berry, Rose V. S. The Dream City, Its Art in Story and Symbolism. Paul Elder and 
Company, San Francisco, 1915. 

Bradley, A. Z. The Exposition Gardens. Sunset, The Pacific Monthly, vol. XXX, 
p. 665-79. April, 1915. 

Brinton, Christian. American Painting at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. The Inter- 
national Studio, vol. LVI, sup. 25-32. August, 1915. 

Brinton, Christian. Foreign Painting at the Panama-Pacific Exposition I. The Inter- 
national Studio, vol. LVI, sup. 47-54. September, 1915. 

Brinton, Christian. Foreign Painting at the Panama-Pacific Exposition II. The Inter- 
national Studio, vol. LVI, sup. 89-96. October, 1915. 

Brinton, Christian. Scandinavian Art at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. The American- 
Scandinavian Review, vol. Ill, p. 349-57. November-December, 1915. 

Brinton, Christian. Sculpture at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. The International 
Studio, vol. LVII, sup. 3-9. November, 1915. 

Brinton, Christian. The San Diego and San Francisco Expositions. I. San Diego. The 
International Studio, vol. LV, sup. 105-9. June, 1915. 

Brinton, Christian. The San Diego and San Francisco Expositions. II. San Francisco. 
The International Studio, vol. LVI, sup. 3-10. July, 1915. 

Burke, Katharine Delmar. Storied Walls of the Exposition. Paul Elder and Company, 
San Francisco, 1915. 

Cahill, B. J. S. The Panama-Pacific Exposition from an Architect's Viewpoint. The 
Architect and Engineer of California, vol. XXXIX, p. 47-60. December, 1914. 

Calder, A. Stirling. Sculpture at the Exposition. Sunset, The Pacific Monthly, vol. 
XXXII, p. 610-15. March, 1914. 

[ 195 ] 



BIBLIOGRAPHY— Continued 

Catalogue of the Department of Fine Arts, Panama-Pacific Exposition. The Wahl- 
green Company, San Francisco, 1915. 

Catalogue de Luxe of the Department of Fine Arts of the Panama-Pacific Inter- 
national Exposition. Edited by John E. D. Trask, Chief of the Department of 
Fine xA.rt.s, and J. Nilsen Laurvik. Two Volumes. Fully Illustrated. Paul Elder 
and Company, San Francisco, 1915. 

Cheney, Sheldon. Art Lovers' Guide to the Exposition. San Francisco, 1915. 

Clark, Arthur B. The Significance of the Paintings at the Exposition. San Francisco, 
1915. 

Collecting Art Exhibits in War-ridden Europe. The Review of Reviews, vol. LI, p. 462-4. 
April, 1915. 

Colour Scheme of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition. The American Archi- 
tect, vol. CY, p. 28-9. January 21, 1914. 

Critcher, Edward Payson. The Panama-Pacific International Exposition. The Multi- 
tude, vol. I, p. 103-16. August, 1914. 

Eight Decorations by Frank Brangwyn for the East Court of the Panama-Pacific Inter- 
national E.xposition at San Francisco. Scribner's Magazine, vol. LYII, p. 170—5. 
February, 1915. 

Famous Paintings for the Panama-Pacific Exposition. The International Studio, vol. 

LIV, sup. 126-9. February, 1915. 
Faville, W. B. Phases of Panama-Pacific International Exposition Architecture. The 

American Architect, vol. CVH, p. 2-7. January 6, 1915. 
Faville, W. B. The Panama-California Exposition, San Diego, California. The American 

Architect, vol. CVII, p. 177-80. March 17, 1915. 
Festal Court, The. Panama-Pacific Exposition. The American Architect, vol. CIV, 

p. 217-22. December 3, 1913. 
Furniss, George B. Gardens of the Panama-Pacific Exposition. Garden Magazine, vol. 

XX, p. 160-1. December, 1914. 

Garnett, Porter. The Inscriptions at the Panama-Pacific International Exposition. 
The San Francisco News Company, San Francisco, 1915. 

Gordon, EHzabeth. What We Saw at Madame World's Fair. Samuel Levinson, San 
Francisco, 1915. 

Great International Panama-Pacific Exposition, The. The Scientific American, vol. 
CXII, p. 194-5. February 27, 1915. 

Grey, Elmer. The Panama-Pacific International Exposition of 1915. Scribner's Maga- 
zine, vol. LIV, p. 44-57. July, 1913. 

Harada, Prof. Jiro. The Panama-Pacific International Exposition and its Meaning. The 
International Studio, vol. LVI, p. 186-95. September, 1915. 

Hardy, Lowell. Sculpture and Colour at the Panama-Pacific International Exposition. 
Out AVest ]\Iagazine, New Series, vol. VIII, p. 321-30. December, 1914. 

Hardy, Lowell. The Architecture of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition. The 
Architect and Engineer of California, vol. XXXIX, p. 61-74. December, 1914. 

Illustrated Record of the Exposition. By Louis C. Mullgardt and A. Stirling Calder. 

Paul Elder and Company, San Francisco, 1915. 
Ito, B. The Japanese Garden at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. The Architect and 

Engineer of California, vol. XXXIX, p. 86-8. December, 1914. 

[196] 



BIBLIOGRAPHY— Continued 

James, Juliet. Palaces and Courts of the Exposition. California Book Company, San 

Francisco, 1915. 
James, Juliet. Sculpture of the Exposition Palaces and Courts. San Francisco, 

1915. 
Japan and Her Exhibits at the Panama-Pacific International Exhibition, 1915. 

Prepared by Hakurankwai Kyokwai (Societe des Expositions), Tokyo, Japan. 
Jules Guerin, Director of Colour, Panama-Pacific Exposition. The Century Magazine, 

vol. XC, p. 797-8. September, 1915. 

Knaufft, Ernest. Architecture at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. Review of Reviews, 
vol. LI, p. 165-74. February, 1915. 

Laurvik, J. Nilsen. Notes on the Foreign Paintings at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. 
Art and Progress, vol. VI, p. 353-63. August, 1915. 

Macomber, Ben. The Jewel City. J. H. Williams, San Francisco, 1915. 

Magic Spanish City at San Diego. Out West Magazine, New Series, vol. VIII, p. 291- 
306. December, 1914. 

Maybeck, Bernard R. The Palace of Fine Arts and Lagoon. With Introduction by 
Frank Morton Todd. Verses by John E. D. Trask. Paul Elder and Company, San 
Francisco, 1915. 

McCuUagh, Minne Althea. The Jewel City. With Decorations by Pedro J. Lenios. 
San Francisco, 1915. 

Merrill, Mollie Slater. Gullible's Travels through the Panama-Pacific Inter- 
national Exposition. San Francisco, 1915. 

Mitchell, W. Garden. An Architect's Impressions of a Wonderful Exposition. The Archi- 
tect AND Engineer of California, vol. XXXIX, p. 77-82. December, 1914. 

Mullgardt, Louis C. The Architecture and Landscape Gardening of the Exposition. 
Paul Elder and Company, San Francisco, 1915. 

Mullgardt, Louis C. The Panama-Pacific Exposition at San Francisco. The Architec- 
tural Record, vol. XXXVII, p. 193-228. March, 1915. 

Murphy, J. C. San Diego's Evolutionary Exposition. Collier's, vol. LIV, p. 20-2. 
December 5, 1914. 

Neuhaus, Eugen. Sculpture and Mural Decorations at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. 

Art and Progress, vol. VI, p. 364-74. August, 1915. 
Neuhaus, Eugen. The Art of the Exposition. Paul Elder and Company, San Francisco, 

1915. 
Neuhaus, Eugen. The Critical Review of the Exposition. Two Volumes. Paul Elder 

and Company, San Francisco, 1915. 
Neuhaus, Eugen. The Galleries of the Exposition. Paul Elder and Company, San 

Francisco, 1915. 
Newton Photographs and Photochromes of the Panama-Pacific International 

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Official Guide Book of the Panama-California Exposition. San Diego, California, 

1915. 
Official Guide of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition, 1915, U. S. A. The 

Wahlgreen Company, San Francisco, 1915. 

[197] 



BIBLIOGRAPHY— Continued 

Official Illustrated Catalogue of the Department of Fine Arts, Panama-Pacific 

International Exposition (AYith Awards). The Wahlgreen Company, San Francisco, 

1915. 
Official Miniature View Book of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition. 

R. A. Reid, San Francisco, 1915. 
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R. A. Reid, San Francisco, 1915. 
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Panama-Pacific International Exposition, A Record of the. By Eugen Neuhaus, 
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Panama-Pacific International Exposition .\t San Francisco, 1915. Official Publi- 
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Panama-Pacific International Exposition, San Francisco, 1915. The International Studio, 
vol. LIV, p. 99-105. December, 1914. 

Panama-Pacific International Exposition, The Buildings of the States at the. The Amer- 
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Panama-Pacific International Exposition, 1915, Souvenir Guide, with natural 
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Perry, Stella G. S. Little Bronze Playfellows of the Fine Arts Colonnade. Paul 
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Perry, Stella G. S. The Sculpture and Murals of the Panama-Pacific Exposition. 
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Photographic Studies. By Francis Bruguiere. Day and Night Views. San Franci.sco, 
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Plastic Art at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. The American Architect, vol. CIV, 
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Price, C. Matlack. The Panama-California Exposition, San Diego. The Architectural 
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Red Book of Views of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition. R. A. Reid, 
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Rose, Jack Manley. Four Drawings of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition. The 
Architectur.\l Record, vol. XXXVII, p. 221-4. March, 1915. 

Ryan, W. D'A. The Illumination of the Exposition Buildings. The Architect and Engi- 
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[198] 



BIBLIOGRAPHY— Continued 

Taylor, Edward Robeson. In the Court of the Ages. Poems in Commemoration of the 

Panama-Pacific International Exposition. San Francisco, 1915. 
Taylor, H. A. Camera-work at the Panama-California Exposition. Photo Era, vol. 

XXXIV, p. 267-70. June, 1915. 

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Trask, John E. D. The Influence of the Worlds' Fairs on the Development of Art. Art 
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Watson, Mark S. Fine Arts at the San Diego Exposition. Art and Progress, vol. VI, 

p. 446-55. October, 1915. 
Watson, Mark S. Permanent Buildings at the San Diego Exposition. The Architect 

and Engineer of California, vol. XXXIX, p. 47-57. November, 1914. 
Williams, Cora L. Fourth Dimensional Reaches of the Exposition. Paul Elder and 

Company, San Francisco, 1915. 
Williams, Jesse Lynch. The Colour Scheme at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. Scribner's 

Magazine, vol. LVI, p. 277-89. September, 1914. 
Williams, Michael. A Brief Guide to the Department of Fine Arts, Panama-Pacific 

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August, 1915. 
Williams, Michael. Arts and Crafts at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. Art and Progress, 

vol. VI, p. 374-8. August, 1915. 
WlUiams, Michael. Western Art at the Exposition. Sunset, The Pacific Monthly, vol. 

XXXV, p. 317-26. August, 1915. 

Woehlke, Walter V. Nueva Espaiia by the Silver Gate. Sunset, The Pacific Monthly, 
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WooUet, William L. Colour in Architecture at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. The Archi- 
tectural Record, vol. XXXVII, p. 437-44. May, 1915. 



e- 



[199] 



INDEX OF ARTISTS 



Page 

Abbey, Edwin Austin 92 

Aitken, Robert Ingersoll .... 49 

Alice, Antonio 181 

Allegri, Antonio (II Correggio) . . 15 

Allen, Frank P., Jr 32 

Bakewell, John, Jr 45 

Balsgaard, C. V 146 

Bartholome, Albert 80 

Batthyanyi Gyula 145 

Bauer, Marius Alexander Jacques . 138 

Beal, Gifford 121 

Beaux, Cecilia 107 

Bellows, George Wesley ... 97, 127 
Benson, Frank Weston .... 16 

Bergman, Oskar 142 

Bermudez, Jorge 178, 181 

Bernard, Joseph 69, 80 

Besnard, Paul- Albert . . .15, 173, 174 

Bilbao, Gonzalo 177 

Bistolfi, Leonardo 78 

Blanche, Jacques-Emile 174 

Blommers, Bernardus Johannes . . 137 

Boberg, Anna 142 

Boccioni, Umberto 20 

Bocklin, Arnold 87 

Boggio, Pompeo 178 

Bosboom, Johannes 137 

Bourdelle, fimile-Antoine ... 80 

Bracquemond, Felix 18 

Brangwyn, Frank . . . 47, 48, 51 

Breitner, George Hendrik 137 

Brown, Arthur, Jr 45 

Bruguiere, Francis 30, 33 

Buonarroti, Michelangelo ... 68 
Burroughs, Edith Woodman ... 44 

Canova, Antonio 68, 77 

Carles, Arthur B 86, 97 

Carriere, Eugene 173 

Cassatt, Mary 16 

Cazin, Jean-Charles 173 

Cezanne, Paul . . . . 18, 19, 20, 173 
Chase, William Merritt .... 92 



Christensen, Godfred 

Ciardi, Emma . 

Cinotti, Guido . 

Claus, Emile 

Clausen, George 

Clodion (see Michel) 

Collett, Fredrik 

Columbano, Bordalo Pinheiro 

Correggio (see Allegri) 

Cottet, Charles 

Courbet, Gustave . 

Cram, Ralph Adams 

Csaky Jozsef 

Csok Istvan 

Czobel Bela 

Dalou, Jules 

Dauchez, Andre 

David, Jacques-Louis 

Davies, Arthur B. . 

Dazzi, Arturo . 

Dearth, Henry Golden 

Degas, Hilaire Germain-Edgar 



174, 179 

14, 18, 19 

30 

150 

150 

150 

80 
174 
14 
25 
78 
25 
15, 19, 173 

Delacroix, Ferdinand Victor-Eugene 14 
Denis, Maurice . . . .20, 174, 185 
Dodge, WiUiam De Leftwich . 16, 47, 48 

Dove, Arthur 25 

Duveneck, Frank .... 92, 96, 99 

Edstrom, David 80, 83 

Exner, Johan Julius 146 



Page 

146 

176 

176 

16 

16 

146 
177 



Falconet, fitienne- Maurice 








68 


Falguiere, Jean Alexandre-Joseph 


80 


Fantin-Latour, Ignace Henri Jean- 




Theodore 


173 


Fechin, Nikolai 








12 


Fenyes Adolf 








150 


Ferenczy Karoly . 








150 


Ferguson, Frank W. . 








30 


Ferrari, Ettore . 








80 


Fjaestad, Gustav Adolf 






142, 


161 


Fornara, Carlo . 








176 


Foster, Ben 








119 



[201] 



INDEX OF ARTISTS— Continued 



Page 

Fragonard, Jean-Honore .... 14 

Fraser, James Earle 47, 66 

Frazee, John 68 

Frieseke, Frederic Carl . 25,95,97,111 
Fry, Sherry Edmundson .... 42 

Gallen-Kallela, Axel 149 

Gauguhi, Eugene Henri-Paul 19, 20, 25,173 

Gauguin, Pola 145 

Gleizes, Albert 22 

Gogh, Vincent van . . . . 20, 187 

Goodhue, Bertram G 30, 32, 35 

Gorter, Arnold Marc .... 137, 153 
Goya y Lucientes, Francisco Jose de 14 

Grafly, Charles 72 

Greenough, Horatio 71 

Griffin, Walter 97 

Guerin, Jules 44 

Guillemet, Jean-Baptiste Antoine 173 

Hammer, H. J 146 

Hammer, William 146 

Hansen, Heinrich 146 

Harrison, Thomas Alexander 16 

Hartley, Marsden 25 

Hassam, Childe ... 16. 48, 92, 97 

Henri-Matisse 20,21 

Hitchcock, George 16 

Hobbema, Meindert 137 

Hollosy Simon 150 

Holmboe, Thorolf 169 

Hooch, Pieter de 137 

Homer, Winslow . . . . 91, 92, 95 

Ingres, Jean Auguste-Dominique . 19 

136, 176 



f-l Ma 
(Ma 



Israels, Isaac 


137 


Israels, Jozef 


137 


Ivanyi-Griinwald Bela 


. 150 


Javor, Pal 


. 151 


Josephson, Ernst .... 


141 


Kent, Rockwell .... 


131 


Kesmarky Arpad de . . . 


. 150 


Kobke, Christen Schjellerup . 


146 


Korody E. de 


150 


Krohg, Christian .... 


142 


Kroyer, Peter Severin . 


16, 146 


Kyhn, Peter Vilhelm Karl 


146 


La Farge, John .... 


92 


La Touche, Gaston 


15 



Lagos, Alberto 83, 

Larsson, Carl 141, 

Le Sidaner, Henri-Eugene 

Leger, Fernand 

Legros, Alphonse 

Leiljl, Wilhelm 

Lenbach, Franz von 

Lentelli, Leo 

Lever, Hayley 97, 

Lie, Jonas 97, 

Liebermann, Max 

Liljefors, Bruno Andreas . . 141, 

Lionne, Enrico 

Lund, Henrik 

Luppi. Ermenegildo .... 78, 

Maillol, Aristide 

Malhoa, Jose 177, 

Mancini, Antonio 176, 

Manet, fidouard . 14, 15, 18, 19. 150, 

Manship, Paul 44 

Maris, Jacobus Hendrikus 

Maris, Matthijs 

Maris, Willem 

Marstrand, Wilhelm Nikolai . 

Marquet, Albert 

astenbroek, Johan Hendrik van 137, 
aurer, Alfred H 

Mauve, Anton 

Maj'beck, Bernard R 

Meifren, Eliseo 

Melchers, Julius Garibaldi 

Mentessi, Giuseppe 

Mercie, Marius Jean-Antonin 

Metcalf. Willard Leroy 

Meunier, Constantin . 

Michel, Claude (Clodion) 

Michelangelo (see Buonarroti) 

Millet, Jean-Francois . 

Monet, Claude-Oscar . 

Morisot, Bert he Marie Pauline 

Morris, William 

Moreau, Gustave 

Morelli, Domenico 

Mullgardt, Louis C 

Munch, Edvard 142, 

Navarro, Juan Carlos Oliva . 83. 

Nicolini, Giovanni 

Ni.s])et, Robert H 



16,92, 



15 



Pase 

178 
155 
174 

22 
173 

96 

96 

77 
113 
117 

15 
142 
176 
145 

79 

80 
191 
183 
173 
,50 
137 
137 
137 
146 
177 
138 

25 
137 

47 
177 
103 
176 

80 
,97 
, 83 

86 

14 
,16 
173 

88 
173 
175 

51 
147 
181 

78 
123 



[202] 



INDEX OF ARTISTS— Continued 



Page 

Nittis, Giuseppe de 173 

Nordstrom, Karl 141 

Osslund, Helmer 142 

Ottesen, Otto Didrik 146 

Paddock, Josephine 125 

Panozzi, Americo 17S 

Parker, Lawton S 105 

Perlmutter Izsak 150 

Petersen, Edvard 146 

Picabia, Francis ... 20, 22, 23, 26 
Picasso, Pablo .... 20, 22, 25, 26 

Piccirilli, Attilio 71 

Piloty, Carl Theodor von ... 96 

Powers, Hiram 71 

Previati, Gaetano 176 

Priestman, Bertram 16 

Prudhon, Pierre 19 

Putnam, Arthur 44 

Putz, Leo 159 

Puvis de Chavannes, Pierre-Cecile . 173 

Quillivic, Rene . . . . 80, 81 



Ramponi, Ferdinando . 
Redfield, Edward Willis 
Reid, Robert 
Renoir, Pierre-Auguste 
Reth Alfred . . . 
Reti Istvan 
Rippl-Ronai Jozsef 
Robinson, Alexander . 
Robinson, Theodore 
Rodin, Auguste 
Roed, Jorgen 
Roll, Alfred-Philippe . 
Romanach, Leopoldo . 
Rose, Manuel 
Rubens, Petrus Paulus 
Ruisdael, Jacob Isaacksz. 
Rush, William . 
Rusinol, Santiago . 
Russolo, Luigi . 
Rysselberghe, Theodore van 

St. Lerche, Hans 
Sargent, John Singer 
Schultzberg, Anshelm 
Segantini, Giovanni 
Selgado (see Veloso) 



176 
92, 97 
16, 48 
15, 173 
. 150 
. 150 
150, 163 
. 133 
16, 85, 92, 96 
47, 78, 80 
146 
174 
181 
181, 193 
15 
. 137 
68 
15 
20 
16 



83 
89, 92, 101 
141, 142, 157 
15, 175, 176 



Page 

Severini, Gino 20 

Signac, Paul 174 

Simmons, Edward 16, 48 

Simon, Lucien 174, 189 

Sivori, Eduardo 181 

Sorolla y Bastida, Joaquin . . 15, 177 
Sousa-Lopes, Adriano de . . . . 178 

Stackpole, Ralph W 72 

Steer, Wilson 16 

Steichen, Eduard J 25 

Sterne, Maurice 25 

Strandberg, Gabriel .... 142, 143 

Stuck, Franz von 165 

Szinyei Merse Pal 149 

Tarbell, Edmund Charles 16, 92, 97, 129 

Thaulow, Frits 16, 145 

Thorvaldsen, Bertel .... 68, 77 

Tito, Ettore 172, 176 

Toulouse-Lautrec, Henri de . . 173, 174 
Troubetzkoy, Paul ... 75, 78, 83 

Tucker, Allen 109 

Twachtman, John H. . . 16, 92, 95, 115 

Vallotton, Felix 174, 175 

Vaszary Janos 149 

Vedani, Michelo 80 

Velazquez, Diego Rodriguez de Silva 15 
Veloso Salgado, Jose .... 177, 178 
Vonnoh, Robert W 97 



Watts, George Frederick 
Weber, Max 
Weir, Julian Alden 
Weissenbruch, Hendrik 
Werenskiold, Dagfin 



. . . . 177 
. . . . 25 
. . . 16, 92 
Johannes 137 
. . 73, 83 



Whistler, James Abbott McNeill 

18, 19, 27, 92, 93, 137 
Willumsen, Jens Ferdinand 146 

Witsen, Willem . . . 137, 138, 139 



Wolter, Hendrik Jan 
Wright, Patience Lovell 
Wyk, Charles van . 



Zanon, Carlo 
Zorn, Anders Leonard 
Zubiaurre, Ramon de . 
Zubiaurre, Valentin de 
Ziigel, Heinrich von 



138 

77 



176 
141 
177 
177 
167 



[203] 









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